


Can You Feel My Heart

by FuryRed



Series: Heart and Soul [1]
Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies), X-Men (Movieverse), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Enemies to Lovers, Erik Has Feelings, Erik has Issues, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, M/M, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 20:56:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,869
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9921836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FuryRed/pseuds/FuryRed
Summary: Erik Lehnsherr hates Charles Xavier.It’s as true as the words written on the wall in the bathroom at the university that Erik attends. Erik sees them one day- accompanied by a crude drawing of Erik and Charles glaring at each other- and recognises the truth of the sentence, and smiles.HehatesCharles.Probably…





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pinkoptics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkoptics/gifts).



> My buddy, my brain twin, my level 5 Tumblr friend... :)
> 
> As you know this started in my head as just a fun little ficlet, but it got away from me massively and this is the result. I hope you like it <3

 

 

Erik’s hatred of Charles is infamous.

For three years the notoriety of Erik at the university he attends is entirely different- he’s a dedicated student, a loyal friend to a few select people, and a brilliant leader. Then Charles Xavier shows up, and Erik’s reputation becomes inexplicably entwined with someone he despises.

But when they first meet hatred isn’t the first emotion that springs into Erik’s mind (in fact there is some very definite ‘springing’ elsewhere that Erik later tries to deny). On first appearances Charles is sweet, and bright, and stunning, and Erik is overcome by a desperate need to suck his soul out through his dick.

But then Charles opens his mouth, and Erik’s opinion changes.

 

Charles intrusion into Erik’s life is like an explosion of colour in a sea of grey. Previously Erik’s days are regimented and controlled- early rise, morning jog, shower, classes, studying at the library, meeting with the Brotherhood, occasionally a trip to the pub, then home. Ordered, neat, and controlled- like Erik himself.

Erik is in the library one such organised day, looking over some of his engineering texts whilst absently using his powers to fiddle with his metal pen- spinning the object round and round on the table as he checks his notes. Although Erik’s mutation gives him a certain unparalleled advantage when it comes to the more mechanical parts of his course he isn’t one to go into any situation unprepared, which means many meticulous hours studying. There’s often other students in the library talking and working but Erik pays them no mind, for he is composed and completely focused when he has a task in hand.

At least, he is to begin with, until he is rudely disturbed by a large book falling onto his head.

Erik is so engrossed in his reading he doesn’t even notice someone standing next to him, not until the moment of impact. The corner of the book slams Erik hard on the temple, and Erik is both hurt by the blow, annoyed by the disruption, and irritated by the fact that someone would feel the need to retrieve such a large fucking volume of text. Has this person not heard of computers?

After the impact Erik’s eyes immediately clamp shut as he winces in pain, and he hears a soft “Oh!” of shock followed by mumbled apologies in a clipped British accent that Erik finds oddly soothing. There’s a hand on his knee now too, warm and reassuring, and Erik opens his eyes to regard a mop of brown hair as the person kneels on the floor to retrieve the book. Erik is just about to open his mouth to give this _Dummkopf_ a piece of his mind when they look up, and Erik is met by the most beautiful blue eyes he’s ever seen in his life, and words are forgotten like good intentions.

This man is _gorgeous_. He rambles slightly as he offers up further amends, and Erik is barely listening to what he’s saying- Erik’s attention is focused purely on his warm and open face, the perfect pink curve of his lips, the smatter of freckles across his cheeks and down his chest, trailing down under the edge of his shirt and jumper where Erik’s eyes try to desperately follow… Erik’s gaze drops down and it’s only when the man grasps Erik firmly on the shoulder that Erik realises that he’s tipping forward off his chair.

“My friend, are you okay?”

Erik blinks once, twice, pulls himself away from dizzying thoughts of pink and blue, and then the library is back in focus, and the man kneeling in front of Erik is gently pressing his thumb into the curve of Erik’s collarbone as Erik weakens to the touch; held captive and lost all at the same time.

 _“Hübsch…”_ Erik murmurs.

“What? No- I’m Charles…” There’s a slight frown, and then: “I think you might have a concussion…”

“ _Nein_ … no”, Erik responds, shaking his head and feeling his vision spin with the movement. “No, I’m fine. What the fuck hit me?”

“Ah, yes- sorry about that”, Charles says with an apologetic smile, withdrawing his hand from Erik’s shoulder but remaining knelt on the floor. “That particular volume is rather weighty, but completely essential to my thesis I’m afraid. Apparently my predecessors considered it impossible to write about the complexities of mutation without rambling on somewhat... I only hope that, when I one day become a genetics professor, I’ll manage to be rather more succinct. You see, the thing about mutation is…”

It’s happening again- Erik’s concentration is slipping as he stares at the bewitching blue of Charles’ eyes, at the one freckle just above his lip that’s a little darker than the others, at the lock of chestnut hair that falls in his face, but at that word- ‘mutation’- Erik’s focus suddenly becomes centred and sharp.

“…taking us from single celled organisms to being the dominant form of li--”

“Mutation”, Erik blurts out, acutely aware of the fact that he’s interrupting but not caring too much. “You write about mutants? You study mutants?”

Charles is clearly a little surprised by the intrusion, but polite enough not to say anything.

“Um, yes… I’ve been conducting research privately with a friend of mine. Obviously mutations are recognised publicly now, but I still think we’re a way off from fully understanding them, and there’s so much to do to ensure young mutants are nurtured and allowed to flourish. But at least the government is stepping in now to help--”

The noise Erik lets out in response is entirely unflattering. “You’ve got to be kidding me… The government is not helping mutants, they’re trying to control us”.

“Us…?” Charles says softly as his eyes spark in interest. Erik tenses marginally, but something in Charles’ expression tells him there is nothing to fear. And besides, Erik has never been one to shy away from who he is, or what he can do.

“Yes, I’m a mutant…” Erik starts, leaning back in his chair and straightening his shoulders. “Do you have a problem with that?”

“On the contrary, my friend, as it happens I find mutants to be rather remarkable. However, it’s fair to say that being gifted can sometimes be a burden, and it’s important to consider the wider implications of unrestrained mutations- particularly when it comes to young people who aren’t in control of their powers. That’s what I mean when I say the government is helping. The cure--”

“Cure??” Erik snarls, the word causing a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Yes…” Charles replies slowly, almost cautiously. “I’m not saying it’s entirely a good idea, but there are certain mutants out there who are unable to control their powers and, whilst I’d like to think they can be helped in rather less _extreme_ ways, for some people a last resort is necessary, and the cure--”

“It’s not a cure”, Erik bites out as Charles frowns in response. “It’s a weapon”.

“Come on, I… Oh, you know, I’m sorry- I don’t even know your name…”

“Erik”.

There’s a flicker of unreadable expression that passes across Charles’ face, and then he stands- slowly- and watches Erik cautiously with his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Erik… Would that be Erik Lehnsherr, by any chance?”

“Yes… How did you know that?”

“Your reputation precedes you…” Charles scoffs. “I’ve only been at the university for a few weeks but I’ve heard about you, and your Brotherhood… I’d hoped that I might find a moment to speak with you about what it is you’re doing with all those mutants who follow you, considering I’ve heard some rather unsavoury things about your activities”.

“What business is it of yours what I do?” Erik demands with a glare, no longer entranced by the prominent pout of Charles’ lower lip.

There’s a slight smirk on Charles’ face as he starts to reply, and it isn’t long before Erik finds himself standing as well to fully meet Charles in the heat of the argument.

 

That day is the first time Erik is asked to leave the library. It isn’t the last.

After their initial confrontation- where Erik loses his temper and Charles remains calm but no less resilient in return- Erik finds himself with a week-long ban from the library, a new enemy, and a bill for replacing the light fixtures he melted in his rage…

It’s all that fucking Charles Xavier’s fault, of course- all that stupid drivel he was spouting about human and mutant coexistence, about how the way to ensure cohabitation was peace, about how Erik is a stubborn prick who needs to get his head out of his arse and spend some time in the real world. How can anyone be expected to put up with such nonsense?

Over the following few weeks Erik sees Charles on numerous occasions, and almost every meeting ends with an argument. Fortunately as they are studying different subjects their heated debates never take place in a classroom, but they are kicked out of the library more than once, they are told to quiet down in the student lounge, they are asked to move on from the campus gardens...

What makes the whole situation even worse is the discovery that Charles is a mutant himself. Not only does Charles’ intelligence enable him to have an unparalleled understanding of the superiority of mutant genes, but he’s actual living proof of it, and yet he cannot bear to claim that he is a greater being than a baseline human. It _infuriates_ Erik, particularly when Charles decides to combat Erik’s Brotherhood by forming his own division of mutants called the X-Men. The sole aim of the faction seems to be to sit around drinking tea and discussing how to ensure mutant rights are protected in a _nice_ way, and Erik finds it hard not to laugh in the faces of Charles and every single one of his X-Men every time he sees them.

Of course, the support of the X-Men enables Charles to be even more of an irritant than before, and Erik loses count of the amount of Brotherhood protests that are disrupted by Charles and his crew showing up and passing out leaflets and urging them all to just give peace a chance. Predictably each meeting descends into chaos, and even Charles’ and Erik’s supporting players sometimes seem to be uncomfortable with the level of vitriol Charles and Erik hurl at each other.

Erik’s neat and organised world is thrown into disarray, because every _verdammt_ day he cannot go anywhere without seeing Charles’ smug little face trying to fucking _reason_ with him- telling Erik that there’s more to him that he knows, that he can be a better man, that violence is not the answer.

Charles’ persistence is so relentless, it’s no surprise that even Erik’s dreams don’t let him escape.

Erik wakes often, feeling tense and stressed and riled up as he slips from dreams of Charles and his soft fucking voice and his blue fucking eyes and his good fucking intentions. The room seems far too hot as Erik lies there, staring up at the ceiling and breathing rapidly, feeling rage in his heart and arousal in the pit of his stomach, and he hates how his cock hardens at the mere thought of Charles, like his sizeable obscenity has betrayed him.

It’s purely a physical reaction though- a response to the fact that, despite everything, Charles is a very attractive man and given other circumstances he would be unmeasurably appealing to Erik. Erik can’t really blame his body from wanting what his mind is trying to ignore, though he wishes the feelings of desire wouldn’t _rise up_ quite so emphatically when he’s trying to give Charles a piece of his mind. It’s very distracting though- trying to argue with Charles when he’s glaring up at Erik and pouting and all Erik can think of is either kissing Charles or bending Charles over his lap and leaving handprints on Charles’ probably perfect ass.

There’s a couple of occasions when they’re fighting when Erik’s eyes drop marginally to the plump curve of Charles’ bottom lip and Charles blinks like he’s realising something, but then Erik quickly calls Charles a weak-willed pacifist, and whatever understanding Charles is verging on is lost as he re-joins the argument.

 

After Erik has known Charles for perhaps a month he discovers something that makes Charles even more annoying than Erik had previously thought possible.

Charles plays rugby.

Erik stumbles on this knowledge one day by accident, when he somehow sleeps through his alarm and he is late heading out on his morning run. He’s stood just outside his building as he puts on his headphones and selects a track for the workout, when he sees Charles- out in the middle of a field, stretching…

Instantly Erik forgets all about his music, and his mouth gapes as he watches Charles practically folded in half as he reaches down to touch his toes. It’s fucking _obscene_ , and the visage gives Erik a new level of detail to his fantasies that is unexpected and unbelievably compelling.

It’s completely surprising that someone as laid back and seemingly unathletic as Charles actually spends their weekends running around tackling people on a field, and it ruins all assumptions Erik has about what Charles might be hiding under the unfashionable attire he wears that makes him look like he’s 18 going on 80. Before, Erik could console himself with the idea that Charles was plump and unsightly under his cardigans and loose-fitting trousers, but now he knows that’s unlikely to be the case.

All attempts at going for a run are promptly shelved as Erik’s cock makes its feelings about the situation known, and Erik is forced back to his room to hide his shame. He lies back on his bed reading a book and tries not to think about Charles, but every time he closes his eyes for respite Charles’ face is there, and when he opens them again his cock is tenting his sweatpants rather considerably and Erik decides there is only one way to resolve the issue.

In that moment Erik formulates a plan for how to deal with Charles, and decides to reward himself for his good decision with a celebratory wank.

 

When Erik shows up to the rugby game the following week Charles’ face is a picture. He turns even paler than Erik would have thought possible, and Erik gains immense satisfaction from the fact that he’s apparently been able to shock a telepath.

It’s understandable that Charles is so surprised- whilst Erik has always been very athletic, he’s never been one for group activities, and the rugby team is the first social group Erik has ever joined in the years he’s been at the university, except for the Brotherhood. It doesn’t take a genius to realise that Erik’s reasons for partaking in the game are less to do with being a team player and more to do with his interest in Charles, though Erik continues to deny the exact nature of his enthusiasm even to himself.

See, Erik is sure that the reason Charles has been on his mind so much is that Charles is such a fucking nuisance and, whilst Erik sometimes wants to damn well _shake him,_ polite society forbids such violence. On the rugby field, however, there’s nothing to stop Erik from bodily taking Charles to the ground...

Of course, it doesn’t quite work out that way. Erik is confident in his athletic abilities, he knows he is strong and fast, he just doesn’t realise that Charles is faster, and sneaky as fuck.

After about ten minutes Erik finds that his plan of combatting Charles is forgotten and he’s actually beginning to enjoy the game, which is why he stops paying attention as he completely loses track of where Charles is. When Erik recovers his awareness of Charles’ presence once more, it’s because Charles has just tackled him to the ground.

Erik hits the deck with a loud grunt and a sharp gasp of pain as the ball goes flying from his hands and the rest of the players all run off after it, and Erik remains prone staring up at the sky. He’s vaguely aware of Charles still lying on top of him, but finds that he’s not really in a position to enjoy such closeness, considering he’s completely winded and much too occupied with the sparking pain in his ankle.

At first there is just the blue of the sky above him, and then there’s the blue of Charles’ eyes as he leans over- smiling at first and then looking concerned as he begins to offer up sincere apologies for his actions. The way Charles is sat he’s pretty much straddling Erik’s waist, which Erik begins to find enjoyable in spite of the pain, but he knows that the last thing he wants is for Charles to be made aware of his excitement, so instead he calls Charles an _Arschloch_ and Charles frowns and withdraws.

Charles doesn’t go far though. He kneels on the grass and slides an arm around Erik’s back as he helps Erik to sit up, seemingly ignoring the way Erik is muttering German obscenities at him. The swearing continues as Erik slowly attempts to stand up and intensifies as he first puts weight on his injured ankle, but by the time he is hobbling over to the changing rooms with his arm around Charles the cursing has reached a low grumble, and Charles seems to be relieved at Erik’s slowly tempering mood.

Erik has never been a fan of doctors so the last thing he wants is to have a medical professional look at his ankle, so he settles for begrudgingly allowing Charles to tend to the injury. He sits back on one of the benches in the changing rooms, staring down at the top of Charles’ head like he did when they first met as Charles carefully removes Erik’s shoe and begins to inspect the ankle. By this point Erik’s swearing is intermittent at best, and is mainly composed of the occasional sharp word as Charles touches a particularly sensitive spot.

“Sorry…” Charles murmurs, offering Erik a brief apologetic smile before turning his attention back to the injury. His touch is measured and careful, like Charles himself is, and Erik finds himself softening to the gentle caress of Charles’ fingers as Charles winds a bandage around his ankle.

“Why do you have to be so difficult…?” Erik mutters in absence of thought, and Charles emits a short laugh before looking back up to Erik’s eyes once more.

“ _I’m_ difficult? My friend, have you never heard the phrase it takes two to tango...? I can’t argue on my own, though I’m sure _you’d_ make a good go of it… If we can’t find common ground it’s likely because both of us are being unempathetic towards the other, not because one singular person is at fault”.

Charles finishes wrapping up Erik’s ankle before he stands up and fixes Erik with a reproachful gaze.

“We’re more similar than you think, you know…”

“I’m nothing like you”, Erik snarls.

“Yes… you are”, Charles replies softly. “I’m aware that I’m stubborn, just like you’re stubborn. But did you know that you’re good, like I’m good? That you can be kind? I’ve seen the way you care for the members of the Brotherhood, Erik. I may not always agree with your methods, but I can see that you want the best for them. I… I admire that about you”.

There’s a tightening in Erik’s chest as he looks at Charles; his breath catching short like his heart has become wanton and unruly, and Erik wants desperately to pull the errant organ back to himself and shield it from Charles’ words, but he knows that the corruption goes much further than just what Charles is saying.

It’s this same panicked fear that causes Erik to flinch as Charles reaches to gently touch his face, that makes him roughly slap Charles’ hand away without consideration. Charles’ mouth opens slightly like he’s thinking of asking a question, but whatever it is Charles keeps it to himself, though his expression remains thoughtful. It’s like Charles is reading what Erik isn’t saying, and he tries again- just managing to gently run his fingers through Erik’s hair before Erik recoils and smacks Charles’ hand away more firmly.

In spite of Erik’s attempts, hiding is pointless now. Erik feels it in the air, like his emotions are bleeding out of his heart and causing a mess on the floor, and Charles is wading in them. Charles watches Erik’s face carefully for a moment before his eyes trail down, focusing on Erik’s crotch where his hardening cock is only too evident in his unforgiving shorts, and though Charles’ eyes widen in interest he doesn’t say anything, he simply quirks an eyebrow at Erik like he’s waiting for an explanation.

Erik doesn’t have any sort of justification to offer, so he simply continues to glare at Charles- feeling lustful and desperate and weak. When there is still no response Charles sighs softly, before turning away from Erik and starting to walk from the room.

Charles gets as far as the door before Erik grabs him.

It’s an effort for Erik to cross the room with his injured ankle but he makes it, and he grasps Charles firmly- one hand clamping down on the back of each bicep as he pushes Charles forward into the nearby wall. There’s a surprised shout from Charles in response but he doesn’t protest, not even when Erik presses the full weight of his body firmly against him, pushing his crotch against Charles’ ass and dipping his head to hide his face in the nape of Charles’ neck.

“Erikkkk…” Charles whispers, somewhere in-between a moan and a question.

Erik remains pressed against Charles for a long moment, holding him but not keeping him, waiting for any signs of discomfort. Charles doesn’t attempt to move though, so Erik loosens his hold on Charles’ arms and reaches instead for Charles’ shorts- running his thumbs under the hem before slowly pulling them down to expose Charles’ pert ass. Charles gasps but doesn’t comment, and Erik breathes heavily into the back of Charles’ neck as he reaches for his own shorts and slides his hand inside to remove his cock.

The noise Charles makes when he feels Erik’s cock is _everything_ \- a heady moan that causes Erik to groan in response as he rubs the head of his member against Charles’ buttocks. The scent of Charles’ skin is intoxicating as Erik transfers his grip to hold Charles on the waist, before beginning to thrust forward as he ruts against the line of Charles’ ass.

“Erik…” Charles murmurs again, and the noise is all Erik needs to bring him to the edge.

Erik slides his hands under Charles’ t-shirt to press against Charles’ firm stomach, caressing the soft skin just above Charles’ groin as he rocks his hips forward, sucking a mark into the skin of Charles’ neck as he groans and comes over Charles’ ass. Charles whimpers in response, and one of his hands reaches back to grip Erik’s hip, stroking the area with his thumb as Erik moans quietly and settles down.

When Erik’s cock is spent he remains flush against Charles’ back for a moment, brushing the tip of his nose against the back of Charles’ neck and absorbing the feeling of being close to Charles like he’s wanted for so long. It can’t last though, and when Charles squeezes his hip and mumbles “Erik?” it’s like reality is closing in, and Erik lets go of the moment before it can be taken from him.

Charles continues to stay pressed against the wall as Erik withdraws and hastily shoves his member back into his shorts, looking away in fear of what he will see in Charles’ eyes as he turns around. There’s no attempt to move from Charles though, for which Erik is extremely grateful, and as he shuffles from the room on his injured ankle Erik tries not to think about how, in the moment when he came, all he could think about was what it might be like to kiss Charles for the first time.

 

After that, Erik doesn’t really argue with Charles anymore. Seeing Charles is still unavoidable, in spite of the fact that Erik tries very hard to predict Charles’ movements and stay out of his way, but the university campus is only so big and Erik knows he can’t avoid him forever.

When he and Charles next cross paths it is in the library where they first met. Erik has got into the habit of studying early in the morning when he is sure it will be empty, but somehow he still sees Charles there- looking tired as he sits curled up in an armchair with a book in his lap. Charles glances up when he senses Erik and offers a half-smile, but Erik quickly turns away and hastens from the room, deciding it would be best to study at home instead.

The next time Erik actually interacts Charles it is two o’clock in the morning, and he is pissed off. Erik knows it’s 2am because he sees the glaring red light of his alarm clock when he awakes. He’s pissed off because the thing that causes him to stir from sleep is the sound of a fucking alarm going off.

Erik rolls over in bed and groans, waving one hand in the general direction of the ceiling and causing the metal components of the alarm to splutter and die, but it’s not enough. Erik can still hear the sound coming from every other room in the dorm, and he knows that if he doesn’t get up soon he will be disturbed by his student rep banging on his door.

Begrudgingly, Erik withdraws from bed, and a few minutes later he is standing outside with his arms folded angrily across his chest, feeling bitterly annoyed that his sleep has been disturbed just because some fuckwit burnt a pop-tart. The sensitive fire alarms in student accommodation mean it’s unfortunately a frequent occurrence, particularly when people have had rather a lot to drink, but Erik is annoyed each time nonetheless. Usually Erik spends his time grumbling and glaring at anyone nearby until he is allowed to go back to his room, but on this occasion the situation is a little different…

Charles is there. He’s standing with some people Erik recognises as living two floors below himself, and Erik should be thinking about how remarkable it is that Charles has apparently been living under him this whole time and that their different schedules have evidently enabled them to have never crossed paths like this, but that’s not what Erik is thinking at all.

Charles is soft and sleep-rumpled and his hair is in disarray, and the visage is just about fucking _perfect_. He looks cold- unsurprising considering he is wearing only a pair of pyjama bottoms and a t-shirt emblazoned with some sort of ridiculous scientific slogan; a t-shirt that is clearly too small for him, as it barely reaches the hem of the pyjama pants and it enables Erik to see Charles’ cute little tummy. Erik only needs to drag his eyes across Charles’ form once before he feels a predictable stir of interest in his crotch, and from the look on Charles’ face as the alarm stops ringing and Erik strides over, it’s clear he knows what Erik is thinking.

There are no words from either of them as Charles follows Erik faithfully to his room, and Erik finds he likes it that way. It’s simpler somehow not to speak; ironic after all the words exchanged between them over the previous few weeks.

Sometime later Erik is lying naked on his bed with Charles sitting over him, and though Erik intensely dislikes the way Charles is looking at him like he’s searching for something, he’s able to put aside his discomfort when Charles lies down between his legs and starts sucking on his cock. But, of course, the encounter isn’t _quite_ as simple as Erik would have liked…

When Charles first takes Erik’s cock in his mouth he pushes all the way down, sending Erik’s member sliding down the back of his throat and causing Erik to let out an emphatic shout at the ceiling as he lolls his head back in pleasure. Charles moans in response, the vibrations making Erik clench his fists in the bedsheets, and then Charles mouth is withdrawn almost all the way as he focuses only on the top couple of inches. It’s like Charles wanted to prove that he could, and when his mouth stays centred around the head of Erik’s member it’s clear that he isn’t going to push down like that again.

It’s pleasurable, but frustrating, and Erik looks down and watches as Charles sucks on the sensitive head of his cock, mouthing against the surface and swirling his tongue around in a maddening circle. It feels amazing, but Erik is hot with the desire to thrust up into Charles’ mouth, though he knows it would be incredibly rude to take the control from Charles, and the realisation that he actually cares what Charles thinks is sudden and troubling. Still, Erik can’t bring himself to worry about that too much now, not when it feels like the way the pleasure is being drawn from him is so gentle and so loving and so dizzying that he can barely breathe.

It’s almost like Charles is _deliberately_ trying to be a tease, and Erik is sure that Charles is smirking slightly, though it’s hard to tell when his lips are stretched. Still, Erik can’t bring himself to complain, and as he reaches down to gently brush Charles’ hair back from his forehead Charles looks up, and Erik is sure that it’s the look in Charles’ eyes that makes him come.

Afterwards, Erik lies back against the mattress, breathing hard as Charles licks up the length of his shaft. Erik knows that he should be reaching for Charles now and offering to return the favour, but though he wants nothing more than to pull Charles into his arms, he knows that kissing Charles would feel too much like surrender, and he isn’t ready for that yet.

It’s just as well that, once Erik becomes too sensitive and he squirms uncomfortably, Charles places one brief kiss to Erik’s cock before he climbs off the bed and wanders over towards the door. Erik can see the visible outline of Charles’ hard-on through his pyjama bottoms, but Charles doesn’t ask for anything- he simply flashes Erik a brief smile before opening the door and leaving the room.

When Erik waits to fall asleep that night he feels cold on one side, like something is missing, and knows he is very deeply fucked.


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

Charles and Erik don’t argue anymore.

After more than a month of fraught tension and bitter disagreements Erik is completely, hopelessly stunned into silence around Charles, like he fears so much as one word spoken will betray that which he tries to keep hidden.

He _wants_ Charles. The desire is hungry and palpable, and completely undeniable. For the longest time Erik tried to convince himself that, although he found Charles attractive, there was no merit to Charles’ appeal because the vast differences between them could not be overcome. Now though, now that Charles and Erik are no longer sniping at each other, it’s easier to find Charles more agreeable- particularly when he isn’t saying things to piss Erik off every day.

But Charles is never completely silent. Instead it seems like there’s a new tactic to his communication with Erik- he no longer baits Erik or pokes and prods at their differences, instead his words are calm and measured as he politely tries to open up a discussion. Indeed, Charles’ manner of addressing others has always been careful and considered, but there’s a new softness to his speech that Erik finds somehow more infuriating than before.

It’s hard to argue when Charles is using empathy and reason, when he is speaking to Erik like he _understands_ him, like they are two halves of the same moon- light and dark on each side. And so, Erik avoids Charles. Charles only manages a few words directed towards Erik on perhaps three occasions before Erik huffs his vexation and mutters requests for Charles to leave him alone.

There’s an atmosphere around them both, and Erik knows it’s perceptible by more than just himself given the looks the other members of the Brotherhood exchange when he does little more than glare daggers at Charles, rather than confronting him like he used to. Erik wishes bitterly he could go back to how things were before, before he put his hands on Charles, before he knew how it felt to have Charles lay down between his legs, but such memories are forever pressed into Erik’s cerebrum, like commitment, like truth.

The next time Erik is alone with Charles their intimacy is a foregone conclusion; as certain as gravity- a magnetic pull that Erik understands all too well.

He is in the library late one night, studying when he should be sleeping in a further attempt to avoid seeing Charles. Somehow though, Charles always seems to be able to find Erik, and whether that’s because Charles is a telepath or because he simply knows Erik’s typical behaviour and habits Erik isn’t sure. All he knows is, when he gets up and wanders into the far corner of the library to retrieve a book, he turns around and Charles is there, and Erik’s sure it isn’t coincidence that Charles has waited until they are both hidden behind a bookshelf to approach.

This time, surprisingly, Charles doesn’t say anything. He looks up at Erik and smiles softly, stepping nearer as Erik backs away in an attempt at defence, until Erik runs out of room and Charles draws close to steal his breath. It’s painful how much Erik wants Charles; a need made all the more tangible by the closeness of Charles, the warmth of his body, the brightness of his eyes and the fullness of his lips, and when Charles rises up on his toes to whisper in Erik’s ear “I’ve missed you” it’s all Erik can do not to push Charles down to the ground and take him there and then.

That would be too rough though, and Charles deserves tenderness, but unfortunately Erik is not made for holding beautiful things without breaking them. Charles leans away, remaining close and just allowing his lips to brush gently against Erik’s cheek, and immediately Erik seizes Charles on the arms- his grip painfully tight as he pushes Charles to a safe distance without letting go. There’s confusion on Charles’ face, and hurt, and compassion, but he makes no comment as Erik glares at him, like he is giving Erik time to think.

It hurts to think. To want things that cannot be claimed. Erik slides his hands down Charles’ arms, tugging gently but firmly enough to draw Charles closer, and Charles moves into Erik’s body, rests his hands against Erik’s chest, inhales a pointed breath when he is pressed against the firm certainty of Erik’s crotch, and knows.

Charles’ hand trails down Erik’s chest and stomach slowly, like he is waiting for rebuttal, but Erik only watches as Charles gingerly undoes Erik’s trousers and slides his hand inside, until the point when Charles’ firm grasp closes around Erik’s cock, and Erik groans and closes his eyes.

Part of Erik is concerned that he’s about to be banned from the library for the second time, but it’s hard to worry about that when Charles is stroking his cock and moving to drop his head against Erik’s chest; face pressed into the cool leather of Erik’s jacket, so close that Erik can feel tendrils of Charles’ hair brushing against his chin. Charles’ hair smells heavenly, and Erik wants very much to push his face into it and place heartfelt kisses, but like always he is too much in his head rather than his heart, and he simply remains leaning back against the bookshelf as Charles works him to completion.

Sometime near the end Erik’s control slips, and as Charles’ rhythm causes Erik’s stomach to tense and his knees to shake he drops his head forward, and presses his face into the crook of Charles’ neck to inhale Charles’ scent as he comes.

 

After the incident in the library Erik no longer fears Charles’ presence, but he still isn’t quite ready to speak to him. When Erik sees Charles on the university campus he doesn’t immediately turn away anymore, but his words are restricted as Charles stands before him- clutching a ridiculous amount of books in his arms as he gazes up at Erik; the cold air causing a delightful pink flush on Charles’ cheeks that Erik wants to press his mouth to.

Charles talks brightly about the weather, his classes, a book he read that reminded him of Erik, the X-Men’s latest exploits, and Erik watches Charles and listens politely but barely responds, save for the pounding of his heart.

When it becomes clear that Erik isn’t going to say anything Charles pauses, his brows drawn together in a slight frown, and he pouts and it’s _beautiful_ , but Erik still cannot bring himself to speak. Not when it would risk becoming so vulnerable. Erik is not used to trusting others, to being open with them, and in mere months Charles has worked his way past Erik’s defences and into his heart, and Erik cannot bear to think of what damage Charles might do if he were allowed completely unguarded entry.

Charles sighs, his breath visible in the bitter air, and he grips his books tightly with one hand as he reaches the other to gently squeeze Erik’s bicep, tells Erik he will see him later, tells Erik he will be there when Erik is ready, and Erik tries to ignore the way he can still feel the indent of Charles’ fingers after he has withdrawn, like Charles has left a mark upon him- as evident and certain as love.

 

It happens a lot after that. Erik doesn’t know if it was always the case and he never noticed it before, but Charles is always touching him. When they see each other in the hallways Charles’ fingers brush against Erik’s as they pass. When Charles stops to speak to Erik on campus he grips Erik’s arm before he leaves. When Erik stands next to Charles at the bar in the student lounge Charles places his hand on the small of Erik’s back as he leans past to order his drink. Erik flinches with each encounter, like Charles is striking him, but as time goes on he comes to expect the touch, to want it, to need it, until the point when it isn’t enough, and he decides to seek Charles out himself.

Thanks to his control of metal, there isn’t a door in the world that Erik can’t unlock. It’s this unique ability that enables Erik to enter the dorms where Charles lives one night, to walk down the quiet hallway as he seeks out the metal of Charles’ watch he has memorised during all the times he felt it with his power; running invisible fingers across it from a distance- a way to touch without detection.

When he arrives at Charles’ door Erik quickly realises he isn’t the only one who’s been using his mutation to keep track of the other. In spite of the fact that it’s approaching one in the morning the door opens before Erik can reach for it, and Charles is there- looking up at Erik like he knew he was coming, perhaps even before Erik himself did.

Charles reaches forward and gently grasps Erik on the wrist to pull him into the room, closing the door firmly behind him before he leads Erik over to the bed and directs him to sit down on the edge. He stands before Erik for a moment just watching, but when he reaches to gently push Erik’s hair back from his forehead Erik looks away as Charles’ fingers brush his skin, and the sigh Charles gives out is soft but audible as he withdraws his hand and sinks to his knees instead.

Erik doesn’t realise his hands are folded defensively across his lap, not until Charles lightly taps against them and Erik complies- placing his hands either side of himself as he watches Charles, and lifting his hips to assist as Charles begins to pull his pyjama bottoms down. Just the feeling of Charles’ sure grip on his member is enough to make Erik groan, and the helpless noises of pleasure only increase as Charles closes his lips around Erik’s cock without preamble, sliding his mouth along the length of the shaft and cupping Erik’s balls in his other hand.

It’s what Erik needs, though he cannot explain it, though he tries to deny it- but Charles is sweet and perfect, and the way he touches Erik makes him feel like he is worth something for the first time in a long time. Erik watches intently as Charles gives everything he has- embracing Erik’s cock with a dizzying combination of hand and mouth that makes Erik hitch his breath with every stroke. It’s a clear, cool night outside, and the moonlight filtering in through the open curtains illuminates Charles like he is a wonder, and Erik sees Charles’ eyes made brighter in the twilight, and knows that’s exactly what he is.

Like the last time, as Erik nears release he reaches down to gently run his fingers through Charles’ hair, and Charles looks up and strokes more firmly along Erik’s shaft, opening his mouth wider so that Erik can watch as his come spills onto Charles’ tongue. Charles keeps his hand moving, drawing wave after wave of pleasure out of Erik, before closing his lips around Erik’s cock once more and taking the full length in his mouth, until Erik groans and cradles Charles’ head in his hands, keeping Charles close for as long as he can bear.

When Charles makes a muffled noise of appeal Erik loosens his hold, untwining his fingers from Charles’ hair and moaning at the feeling of his gradually softening cock slipping from Charles’ mouth. Erik is sure it’s the heady sensation that makes him close his eyes as he feels and hears as Charles move away, until he opens his eyes again and Charles is sitting on the other side of the bed- nearby but not touching.

Even without looking Erik can feel Charles watching him, like Erik is a stunned animal that might suddenly attempt to run away, and it’s how Erik feels. Though it’s clear Charles tries to tame him, tries to care for him, something in Erik is wounded, and he cannot ever stay for long.

As Erik pulls his pyjama bottoms back up and stands he doesn’t even turn towards Charles for a second, for it would be too much like false hope. Instead he moves over to the door in a few easy steps before he is gone, and he is sure he can _feel_ Charles sigh as well as hear it.

 

After that, it’s like there is an unspoken agreement between the two of them- an awareness that, though Erik will rile against Charles and try to resist their closeness, he will always come back to him in the end.

Charles is never surprised when Erik deems to seek him out. In truth he seems pleased, and Erik tries to console himself with the idea that Charles must be getting something out of the arrangement considering he keeps allowing it to happen, although Erik continues to feel guilty about taking his pleasure from Charles and never giving anything back.

It’s hard to contemplate giving anything to Charles though, not when Erik feels like he has so little to offer. Charles is the smartest person Erik has ever met. He is beautiful and kind and popular with his classmates and his lecturers, and in contrast Erik is an island unto himself- isolated from all but a few select associates. He sneers where Charles smiles. He intimidates where Charles ingratiates. He hurts where Charles helps. It’s ridiculous for Erik to think that he could ever be good enough for someone like Charles, and he is content to remain nothing more than Charles’ dirty little secret. After all, Erik realises one day, it’s not like Charles has ever pursued any kind of relationship with Erik out in the open. This must be what he wants.

It’s that sort of logic that enables Erik to stand close to Charles in libraries and fields and bedrooms- to let Charles touch him with his hands or his mouth. To turn his head away when Charles tries to kiss him. To recoil harshly when Charles reaches for his hand. This is what Charles wants- Erik tells himself as he comes in Charles’ mouth- he has nothing else to give.

 

But although Charles is the one giving everything, Erik still wants more. For nearly two weeks there are handjobs and blowjobs, and Charles’ hot little hands on Erik’s thighs and Charles’ soft voice asking Erik to stay, until Erik has become so used to climaxing under Charles’ influence he starts to feel like his pleasure belongs to Charles alone, like his heart does. But it can’t last forever, and Erik knows when they reach the first term break that they will be separated, and he will have to live without Charles for a time.

It’s inevitable really. When classes are suspended for the holidays most students go home- eager to return to the warmth and comfort of their families. But Erik has no home. He has no family anymore. And so, he prepares himself for two weeks of isolation- just himself and a few other sad individuals remaining on campus for the duration of the break.

By this point Erik has been attending university for three years, so he is accustomed to spending such occasions alone. His room is stocked with supplies and he has books to read and films to watch, and though it is bitterly cold outside Erik knows he is prepared enough to not to have to leave for the two week spell, not unless he wants to.

For a week and a half Erik stays in his room. It’s snowing outside, which rules out any chance of going for a run like Erik would normally do, and instead he decides to spend the time working on his metalcraft- sitting on the bed in his room and using his mutation to mould and reform lumps of alloy. Erik’s ability has been evident for nearly a decade now but he knows that there is still so much untapped potential in his power, and dedicates as much time as he can to honing his craft.

Erik has just finished vibrating the molecules in a sphere of metal to just the right point where they are soft and malleable when it happens. Above Erik there is a sudden harsh ringing sound, and the metal Erik is holding suspended in the air jerks under the influence of his power and smashes into the wall.

Fucking fire alarm. You would think that with only a diminished number of people on campus the chances of someone activating the alarm would be slim, but nevertheless it happens, and Erik is forced outside into the snow to wait for the siren to be deactivated.

Wrapping himself up in jumper and a sullen scowl, Erik steps outside into the rapidly falling snow, sees Charles standing a few feet in front of him, and freezes. Charles for his part looks rather less shocked by the turn of events- he barely responds to Erik’s presence and doesn’t even look particularly pleased to see him like he usually would, and Erik’s heart aches to contemplate the idea that maybe Charles is growing tired of their arrangement.

“What are you doing here?” Erik demands as he walks briskly over towards Charles in the snow, deciding to mask his concern with anger.

“I live here, genius”, Charles responds sullenly, his face mostly obscured by a thick woollen scarf. “Or have you forgotten?”

“But it’s the holidays…”

“I know that. Clearly I have nowhere better to be, and apparently neither do you”.

Suddenly the sound of the alarm ringing stops, and the few people gathered outside begin to filter back inside the building whilst Charles and Erik remain locked in a staring contest.

“What about your family?” Erik asks eventually.

There’s a long pause, and the haunted look in Charles’ eyes is one Erik recognises. He’s seen it in the mirror before.

“I don’t have any…” Charles responds quietly, and suddenly the urge for Erik to take Charles in his arms is overwhelming.

He doesn’t do it though. Instead Erik follows Charles back to his dorm room, pausing in the doorway as Charles steps inside and begins to shed his clothes. After his coat and scarf are discarded Charles turns back towards Erik, raising his eyebrows at Erik and clearly wondering why he hasn’t approached.

“Well, how do you want me this time?” Charles asks, and for the first time the implications of the question make Erik feel sick.

“No”, Erik replies, shaking his head. “No, I don’t want… not that, I… Charles, do you…” Erik sighs, before finishing: “Do you have any tea?”

Charles smiles, the expression bright and ever so slightly mocking. “Erik, I’m _English_ ”, he responds, and it’s hard for Erik not to return his amused grin.

 

Sometime later Erik is sat in the shared kitchen in Charles’ dorm, sitting patiently at the table whilst Charles makes them both a drink. When the tea is prepared Charles hands a cup to Erik before taking a seat across from him, wrapping his hands around his mug and smiling politely, and it’s _weird_. It’s the first time Erik has spent time with Charles when he isn’t yelling at him or having Charles bring him off, and Erik finds he doesn’t know how to act in Charles’ presence.

Perplexed, Erik looks away from Charles and across the kitchen, and it isn’t long before his eyes focus on a small charred rectangular item on a plate on the kitchen counter, and it confirms Erik’s suspicions along with the smell in the air.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Erik asks, turning back to face Charles. “You set off the fire alarm”.

Charles shifts uncomfortably in his seat as he takes a controlled sip of tea before replacing his cup, continuing to stare down at it.

“Um, yeah… I might have had a bit of an accident with a pop-tart…”

“Charles…” Erik starts, his face lighting up with amusement. “How the fuck do you manage to cremate a pop-tart?”

“I’m not very good at cooking…”

“Heating pastry could hardly be described as cooking…”

“Well, it’s about the best I can do. And apparently I can’t even do that very well”.

Charles looks so abashed Erik can’t help but laugh at the sight, and when he does Charles immediately jerks his head up to regard Erik, surprise plain on his face until it softens into joy and affection, and Erik realises Charles has never seen him laugh before.

“Can you cook?” Charles asks eventually.

Erik nods. “Yes. My mother taught me when I was younger, and then I picked some things up on my own after she…”

The end of the sentence is lost, but the implications resonate- the absence of words like the absence of light in Erik’s life after his mother died. It’s a painful recollection- even to think of the nice memories of his mother- because each thought is a moment crystallised in time, as cutting and fragile as ice. The pain of his mother’s illness. The loss of her death. The despair at being handed off to a supposed caregiver who did nothing but belittle and abuse Erik- even going so far as to experiment on Erik in an ill-advised attempt to exploit his mutation. The momentary elation of escape, until the point when Erik realised that being fourteen and homeless was never going to be an easy option.

For years after Erik’s mother died his life was little more than one tragic event after another, until the point where Erik simply felt doomed, and punished- like every sad circumstance was somehow exactly what he deserved. It’s that same somber acceptance that causes Erik to be withdrawn and unapproachable. To be mistrustful of affection. To keep others at a distance. After all, there’s security in never allowing anyone close enough to hurt you.

Erik realises he hasn’t said anything for a long time, and when he looks up Charles is watching him- clearly longing to enquire about what has caused Erik’s sudden silence, but never asking for too much, as always. Although Erik doesn’t doubt that Charles would be kind and compassionate were he to open up, Erik already feels an unparalleled vulnerability when it comes to Charles, and he can’t bear the thought of leaving himself open to further exposure.

“What happened to your family?” Erik asks eventually, because it’s the only thing he can think about and he can’t not say it, and maybe because it’s easier to seek out Charles’ pain than to contemplate his own.

Instantly Charles’ expression grows forlorn, and he drops his gaze to stare at his tea.

“Um, they’re not really around anymore. My father died when I was very young… I barely remember him, to be honest. My mother remarried not long after. Her new husband- Kurt- was… determined. I was never convinced that he loved my mother more than he loved her money, but my mother and I were never especially close, and consequently she refused to listen to any of my concerns…”

Charles’ fingers tremble slightly where he holds his cup until he continues.

“Things only got worse for me after my mutation began to manifest. My step-father was fascinated with it, and consequently he lavished attention on me- the kind afforded by sterile labs and clinical exploration... It wasn’t exactly a close relationship, but regardless it was enough to make my stepbrother Cain jealous, and he wasn’t shy about making his disgust towards me known. When my mother died I was left alone with Kurt and Cain, and as soon as I was old enough I left home. My stepfather died a few years ago, but Cain’s still out there somewhere, I would imagine. To be honest I try not to think about him at all”.

Charles stops speaking, and Erik is stunned. It’s clearly _so_ _painful_ , what Charles is disclosing, and yet he offers his words to Erik as if he were just reading aloud from a book, with no discernible emotion attached. When Erik thinks of his family life the memories are caustic and searing, but for Charles it seems like recollection is sterile- as cold and impersonal as the labs Charles described. It’s remarkable, in a way, that the manner in which each of them acts is essentially reversed when they are thinking or speaking about their pasts; Erik fraught and emotional and Charles detached and unfeeling, for once.

The words forming in Erik’s heart are still too carefully constrained to be expressed, but instead he manages to say “I’m sorry” as Charles’ eyes flick up to regard him, and for a moment their eyes are locked and there is a surge of understanding between them. It lasts for mere seconds before Charles’ expression shifts, and he smiles, and whatever misery he is feeling is pushed down like it was never there to begin with.

“It was a long time ago”, Charles says with a shrug. “I’m here now, and it feels like it’s where I was meant to be. Does it feel like that for you?”

“Yes…” Erik replies, but he isn’t thinking about the university, he’s thinking about the man sitting opposite him.

 

For the next hour Erik stays with Charles, talks some, listens more, until the night draws in and Erik can hear the audible sound of Charles’ stomach rumbling from across the table; clearly unsated given the discarded burnt pop-tart still on the kitchen counter. It would be easy for Erik to invite Charles upstairs, to offer to cook him a real meal, but Erik grows weak under the softness of Charles’ gaze, and eager to withdraw into the security of his isolation once more. And so, he stands without comment, and given the disappointed but accepting expression on Charles’ face he seems to understand, and he simply says a quick goodbye and tells Erik he will see him soon.

Later that night Erik lies in bed, unable to sleep and plagued by thoughts of Charles, as he always is. But this time when Erik closes his eyes he doesn’t replay the visage of Charles on his knees in his head- he thinks of Charles’ smile, of his eyes, of his careful hands, of his measured words. He thinks of Charles’ clothes- the soft comfort they provide, and imagines what Charles might look like under them; whether every inch of his skin is adorned with freckles, whether his thighs are as sturdy and strong as Erik has imagined after so many games of rugby, what he looks like naked, how big his cock is, what he looks and sounds like when he comes.

Erik lies on his side, kicks his pyjama bottoms off, slides a hand down his stomach and grasps his cock, because he will not go to Charles, he will _not_ ; not this time. He strokes himself fast and sure, thinking of Charles and wanting him but denying himself the reality of him, until his stomach muscles tense and his hips stutter into his hand, and he bites his lip to keep from moaning Charles’ name as he comes.

 

For the remainder of the break Erik returns to his self-imposed isolation; the security of the segregation he’s placed upon himself. He barely leaves his room and he certainly doesn’t venture downstairs, not to where he knows Charles is waiting.

Because he _is_ waiting- Erik knows it. More than once Erik feels the influence of Charles- the sensation like spectral hands gently carding through his hair- and knows it’s Charles reaching out to him. From what Erik knows about Charles’ telepathy he understands that Charles’ control over his mutation is exemplary, so if Erik is able to feel the reach of Charles’ power it’s because it’s an intentional act on Charles’ part.

With each phantom surge of contact Erik feels himself weakening- desperate to give in to Charles’ touch, even if it’s just for a moment. But he knows this is a cycle of dependency that cannot continue, and he cannot afford to give in to his desires. Erik knows only too well the pain that can arise from relying on others, from needing them, from loving them, and it’s not something he will allow himself to fall victim to again.

But, on the day before the other attendees of the university are due to return, Erik’s resolve cracks. He is sitting in a chair in front of his window with a book in one hand and a lump of metal in the other, idly flexing his mutation as his eyes skim over the words on the pages in front of him. Outside the day is bright and clear, and the early morning sun has melted a considerable amount of the snow that covers the ground.

Erik glances outside occasionally, watches birds fly, considers going for a run, and then he sees him.

Even though Charles is facing away from the building and he’s wrapped up in a considerable amount of clothing, to Erik, Charles would be recognisable anywhere. He hunches his shoulders as he walks away from the dorms, hands shoved deep in his pockets, and Erik is suddenly consumed by a need to see Charles’ face- to confirm to himself if it is as tinged with pink by the cold as he thinks it is.

It’s that need that drives Erik to hastily pull on a jumper before hurrying outside- walking briskly through the slush at his feet as he follows Charles’ barely-formed footsteps and the metal of his watch. When Erik catches up to Charles he is just stepping behind the science building, most likely on his way to the library, and Erik isn’t sure if Charles hears him coming or if it’s his telepathy that gives the game away. Regardless, the result is the same. Charles turns towards Erik, and though he smiles he looks weary- like he’s been playing the same game for a very long time and he’s tired of never winning.

His expression shifts as Erik draws closer, grasps Charles on the front of his coat, pushes him up against the nearby building. Charles’ back slams against the brick wall as he lets out a soft “Oof!” and Erik is there- pressing his body into Charles’ to keep him in place. Charles looks up at Erik in mild surprise as Erik continues to stare back at him, faces inches apart, before Charles’ expression settles into a familiar kind of acceptance and he reaches for Erik’s trousers.

“No”, Erik grunts, grasping Charles’ wrists firmly with both hands. He lifts Charles’ arms up and pins them against the wall, drawing his body closer so he can press his rapidly- hardening cock against Charles’ crotch, and groaning slightly when he realises Charles is already hard in return. There are a few experimental rolls of the hips as Erik holds Charles pinned, and Charles lets out a shaky sigh and murmurs “Erik…” and Erik has never wanted him more.

Ensuring one hand is firmly holding both of Charles’ wrists, Erik uses the other to reach down and slide under Charles’ clothing, delighting in the way Charles shivers as Erik places the palm of his hand against Charles’ bare stomach. With a flex of Erik’s powers Charles’ trousers are undone, and Erik slides his hand inside without hesitation, fingers closing around the hard length of Charles’ cock as they both groan in response.

Charles’ expression falters. He looks like he is of two minds- wanting to keep his eyes open to continue to look at Erik, whilst fighting off an urge to close them in pleasure as Erik begins to stroke his hand firmly along the length of Charles’ shaft. Erik watches intently, his face still inches away from Charles’, so close he can feel the warmth of Charles’ breath, so that he can see every tiny flicker of movement in Charles’ expression, so that he could count every one of Charles’ freckles if he wanted to, and he cannot tear his eyes away from the sight- everything he has been thinking about for longer than he’d care to admit.

As Erik moves his hand more briskly in a concerted effort to pursue Charles’ pleasure, Charles’ wrists begin to twist under Erik’s hand, but Erik knows that Charles is not looking to escape- more likely he is dying to touch Erik in return, but for once he is denied that privilege. This time, Erik doesn’t want it to be about him, and he can think of nothing finer than watching Charles shudder under his grip, and he can’t tear his eyes away from Charles’ face as Charles moans softly and murmurs Erik’s name.

When Charles is on the brink Erik shifts ever closer- his chest pressed against Charles’ as Charles’ moans turn more frantic and his hips begin to rock forward with each firm stoke and, in the moment when Charles gasps and spills into Erik’s hand, Erik dips his head and claims Charles’ mouth, stealing a kiss as Charles’ moan is muffled, and Erik thinks simply: _“Mine”._


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

It will never work.

The statement is one that Erik utters to himself on numerous occasions, and though he believes it with steadfast conviction each time the thought occurs, it changes nothing.

Erik knows that he and Charles are worlds apart. That they have different values, different beliefs, and different attitudes. But it’s hard to think about that when Charles is looking at Erik like he’s the only person in the whole world. It’s hard to care about the differences when Charles is making Erik feel like he is important, and valued, and needed for the first time in years.

And so, even though Erik’s mind whirls with worries and there is an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach that he can’t shake, he keeps his concerns to himself, and allows the intimacies with Charles to continue.

But it’s not just about that anymore. Somewhere, in-between one encounter and the next, Erik finds himself talking to Charles rather than just listening to him. Enjoying his company rather than just tolerating him. Topics of conversation are generally light-hearted and that’s probably why Erik finds himself able to engage, but regardless the result is the same- each time Erik happens to run into Charles somewhere on campus he no longer avoids him, and he actually grows to relish such conversations.

It’s this slow-easing of Erik’s indifference that means that, one day, he finds himself volunteering to help with one of Charles’ experiments.

For months Charles has been talking about advancing his research into mutation- about appealing to the various mutants on campus to partake in tests to determine the scope of their powers- and now Charles seems ready to put his plan into action. He is in the library one afternoon, chattering animatedly about his research whilst Erik pretends he is studying his books when really he is studying the way Charles’ eyes brighten when he’s excited, and then Erik finds himself speaking without prior consideration.

“You can use me”, Erik says quickly. “You don’t need to search for someone on campus to take part in your tests- I’ll do it for you”.

Charles pauses, blinking at Erik like he is at a loss for words- which is a rarity, and that’s how Erik knows he is truly stunned. It’s probably not too surprising that Charles is shocked by Erik’s offer- Erik has never shown much interest in talking about Charles’ research, let alone helping with it, and Erik dimly suspects that the scope of Charles’ telepathy means that Charles must know of Erik’s abhorrence at being prodded and poked at like a lab rat. Still, although the idea of being experimented on in any way makes Erik’s skin crawl, he knows he is safe with Charles, that Charles’ hands would never hurt him, and that’s what makes him offer himself so willingly.

“Charles…” Erik murmurs, watching Charles who continues to look dumbfounded. The expression is so innocent and so sweet that Erik wants to lean over and kiss him, even in such a public place, but he resists the urge. Indeed, since that initial kiss over a week ago, Erik has not kissed Charles again, nor allowed Charles to initiate the act. It seems only fitting then, that he should give Charles this when he can’t give him anything else.

“Well- the offer is there; just think about it”, Erik says when it becomes clear that Charles isn’t going to respond. He drops his gaze back to regard his books, smoothing over the pages with slightly-shaking hands, until he feels Charles grip his knee under the table and he jolts so badly his leg slams against the table with a loud bang.

A few other students in the library look over at the sound but then quickly turn away, not that Erik notices. His gaze is locked solely on Charles, who in turn is staring at Erik like he is a marvel, with sincere, fond appreciation in his eyes.

“Oh, Erik… Are you sure?” Charles asks softly as he traces his thumb against Erik’s knee. “I mean, it’s just a few simple tests- taking blood, stimulus response, answering questions and so on, but I wouldn’t want you to do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable”.

Erik shrugs- the gesture more nonchalant than he feels, but he can tell how important this is to Charles and the idea of making Charles happy is increasingly very appealing.

“It’s not a big deal”, Erik grumbles, and although Charles looks like he wants to offer up contradiction he keeps his response firmly under wraps, and does little more than squeeze Erik’s knee before returning to his studies.

 

The following day Erik is in one of the science labs at the university after hours, sitting in a chair facing Charles whilst a sample of blood is extracted from his arm. Erik watches Charles’ face as he sits there, his skin silently screaming at every careful touch from Charles’ delicate hands, and tries to remain outwardly impassive. It’s not like Erik has never been touched by Charles before, but each previous occasion has been almost exclusively sexual in nature, and there’s a new kind of intimacy attained in placing himself in Charles’ hands like this. It’s not horrifying, like Erik first dimly suspected it might be, rather it’s extremely personal and careful, even affectionate despite the clinical implications. Erik would never admit it, even to himself, but he adores the way Charles cares for him.

The hour Erik has spent in the lab has passed quickly- a flurry of tests and questions that Erik can barely concentrate on, given every excited reaction from Charles makes Erik’s heart sing. Erik has never known anyone quite so fascinated by mutations before- at least not in any positive way- and he can’t help but show off a little as he displays his abilities for Charles. Up to this point Charles has possessed an awareness of what Erik can do, but other than the odd occasional metal-melting incident, Charles has never really seen the true scope of Erik’s power.

With each display Charles’ smile grows brighter, and Erik’s heart grows softer. Charles watches Erik like he is the most remarkable thing Charles has ever laid his eyes on, tells Erik that he is amazing, that his power is extraordinary, says that he’s so glad the two of them had the chance to meet. Erik never says anything in response, he simply huffs quietly and tries to mask the way he leans into Charles’ touch.

Erik winces a little as the needle is withdrawn from his skin, and Charles apologises and gives Erik’s arm a conciliatory squeeze, before reaching to the side to select a cotton wool pad and pressing it to the indent on Erik’s skin. When the small outflow of blood is stemmed Charles removes the pad and briefly cleans off Erik’s skin, before retrieving a plaster and placing it over the area.

“There- all done”, Charles says brightly, smiling at Erik as he presses the plaster into place. “I really appreciate you doing this, Erik. Your mutation is unlike any I’ve ever seen, and I’m sure your assistance is going to really help myself and Hank with our research. I honestly can’t thank you enough”.

There’s another shrug from Erik- his way of saying that he feels like, whatever minor thing he can offer to Charles, it will never be enough; it will never be what Charles deserves.

“It’s nothing…” Erik grumbles, and Charles’ expression grows fonder as he leans close.

“It _is_ something”, Charles replies softly. “I… I know that you and I haven’t always seen eye-to-eye, that you probably don’t agree with some of my views, so the fact that you’d be willing to put aside whatever objections you have in order to help me really means a lot”.

“I’m not doing it for you”, Erik huffs, and it’s a lie, but there could be truth in there somewhere so he embellishes by adding: “I care about _mutants_. About helping them. And whilst I may think that your approach to what humans call ‘the mutant problem’ is ill-advised, I know that you’re brilliant, and that you’re capable of helping mutantkind a great deal. So, if what you need is for me to be your lab rat, then I’ll do it”.

There’s a long pause, time in which Charles watches Erik with an almost-despondent look on his face, before he gently says: “Erik… You’re not a lab rat. I don’t want you to just be someone I experiment on. I… I’d like you to be in this _with_ me. To be my… partner. Um, you know, for when my papers are published. Your name could be next to mine. You could be by my side…”

“What about Hank?” Erik asks, referring to Charles’ lab partner as a way of avoiding the implications of what Charles has just offered.

“Um, well, of course Hank would still be involved too. But, you know, he and I are working together and helping each other, but it’s not necessarily a collaborative project- he has his own papers to publish. What I’m talking about is you helping me exclusively. Because this goes much further than just you and I, you know. There are other mutants out there, many of them young and still coming to terms with their powers, and one day I’d like to help them- perhaps to set up a school for mutants where they can flourish…”

“What- just for mutants? I thought you were against segregation?”

“Erik, you misunderstand me… Whilst I still dream that one day mutants and humans will be able to coexist entirely harmoniously, I’m not a fool. There are always going to be narrow-minded people out there who will seek to persecute and demonise mutants, for little reason other than the fact that they’re different. Everyone deserves the right to a safe space where they can live without judgement, and I think that young mutants in particular require somewhere where they can develop their powers without fear of reprisal. This research is just the start. If I can determine what causes mutations to occur I can maybe develop a way of detecting mutants outright, and then can use that to reach out to all of those out there in the world, and invite them to join me”.

Erik watches Charles speak, and recognises the brilliance in his proposal, and envies his resolve. Although Erik has always had mutant rights in mind his ideas never went much further than simply not allowing mutants to be bullied by any humans that may oppose them. Clearly Charles thinks of things on a much grander scale, and Erik knows that if anyone has the fortitude to put such a plan into place, it’s Charles.

“That’s… That’s a brilliant idea, Charles”, Erik says softly. “I think that a school- a safe place for mutants- may be exactly what they need”, he adds, thinking of a time in his life when such a place would have meant the world to him.

Charles’ smile grows wider, and he edges closer on his chair and places a hand on Erik’s knee.

“Thank you, Erik”, Charles responds, squeezing Erik’s leg. It’s such a simple touch, but it has never taken very much from Charles to make Erik to yearn for him, and all the other things Erik knows Charles’ careful hands can do.

But, like the last time, Erik remains determined to not just take from Charles selfishly anymore, and when Charles slides his hand further up Erik’s thigh and leans close Erik allows it for only a second before he reaches out to take Charles’ hand, holding it between both of his own to prevent Charles from advancing further. As it turns out, Charles seems significantly more delighted with this development than he would have been were he allowed to touch Erik in his usual manner, and his mouth parts slightly and he looks at Erik with wide eyes as Erik cradles Charles’ hand in his lap; holding but not keeping him.

Sometime later Charles’ hands are occupied in other ways- palms pressed down flat against the surface of a table at Erik’s instruction, against books and papers he had used to make notes about Erik moments earlier. Erik stands behind Charles and slides his hands around Charles’ waist to grip his cock, before stepping forward to push himself against the lush curve of Charles’ ass and pressing his face into the back of Charles’ neck as he holds him.

There’s a visible shudder from Charles in response, and clearly he is aching to touch Erik in turn, but he is accommodating and loyal and he remains standing where he is as Erik begins to rub his cock along the line of Charles’ buttocks whilst also stroking Charles’ member in earnest. The biggest indication of the fact that Charles wants more is the way he leans back against Erik, body trembling with each stroke as he tips his head back against Erik’s shoulder and moans his name. From the way Charles is reclining Erik can see his face and it’s _glorious_ , and Erik wonders why he denied himself the beauty of Charles’ pleasure for so long.

The sight and scent and sound of Charles- soft and warm in Erik’s arms- is so intoxicating that Erik can’t help but lean into him in turn; pressing his mouth against Charles’ neck and sucking a mark into Charles’ skin like a signature, like ownership.

Charles continues to gasp and moan in Erik’s hold as Erik works him to completion, and Erik loses track of what he’s doing with his own member as he watches Charles- focusing on his pleasure and the way his cock grows warm and heavy in Erik’s hand, until Charles groans and comes into Erik’s palm, and Erik can’t bring himself to withdraw as Charles tilts his head to press a kiss to the corner of Erik’s mouth and murmurs “Darling…”

 

There are many more visits to the science labs after that. Sometimes Erik sits quietly with Charles and shows off his mutation to silent admiration. Sometimes Erik is more verbose than usual, and is content to regale Charles with stories of his powers and what he’s done with them. Charles is always attentive and patient- happy to go along with whatever Erik wants that day, and never objecting when the meetings inevitably turn intimate.

The encounters at the lab are not the only time Erik regularly sees Charles. Every weekend Erik once again attends the same rugby game as Charles, and whether it’s because he knows it makes Charles happy or because he simply enjoys being part of a team for once, Erik isn’t sure. Regardless, the games are a highlight, and he can’t even manage to seem too grumpy each time Charles takes him out with a particularly winning tackle.

Erik never gets hurt again like he was the first time he played rugby, but nevertheless Charles always offers to take care of him, and Erik’s protests grow milder with each utterance. The odd sprained ankle or bruised rib is a worthy price to pay for Charles’ affection, particularly when Charles runs his hands over Erik like he is touching a rare artefact; one he must handle with extreme caution.

Although getting physical with Charles every weekend is a tremendous temptation, Erik never makes advances towards him when other people are around. His involvement with Charles is a secret- the only one in Erik’s life he isn’t ashamed of- and there’s a big part of him that likes that he has this one, precious thing all to himself.

Still, it’s hard to spend time with Charles and not to want him, to touch him, to taste him. Erik’s desire for Charles is all-consuming, and grows deeper with every second in his presence, and there is only so long Erik can hold out before he yearns to feel the weight of Charles’ body against his own once more.

Fortunately, Charles is always happy to acquiesce to Erik’s request, and on one memorable occasion after a match he uses his telepathy to suggest to the other players that they should all go and clean up at home, meaning that Charles and Erik have the showers all to themselves.

Erik can tell Charles feels a little bit guilty about using his power in such a frivolous way, but his objections are shelved when Erik has him pressed against the wall of the shower- pinned in place by Erik’s body as Erik thrusts against him. Charles’ movements are made clumsy by lust but he manages to hold both their cocks together with slippery fingers; his other hand resting against the small of Erik’s back as he murmurs his appreciation into the skin of Erik’s neck. Charles smells of soap and sweat and _Charles_ , and Erik can’t help but cradle Charles’ head in his hands and brush his lips against Charles’ cheek as he moans and tries to keep up his rhythm up though his knees feel weak.

When Erik shudders through his release the sensation is as hot and stifling at the steam and water all around them, particularly as he feels Charles’ come spill over his cock at the same time. Erik tips his head back to watch Charles as he groans; completely captivated by the blissful expression on Charles’ face and the way he grips Erik’s waist tight with each stroke, and knows that the little space between his arms and against his heart is where Charles belongs, and wishes he knew how to keep him there.

 

But though Erik yearns for Charles in ways that are more than just physical now, it’s like he’s fighting a battle with himself- one that he can never win. His body and soul want Charles, but his mind still fears his touch, the corruption of his kiss, and what it can all mean. Wanting is the first step towards needing, depending, loving, and Erik has never been able to keep the things he loves for long. Though Charles may ache to fix the broken, first Erik would have to want to let him, and it seems too far of a leap to take.

It’s safer to keep Charles at a distance, which is why Erik reels so badly every time Charles gets a little too close. The first time Charles tries to hold Erik’s hand in public they are walking across campus together, and at the simple touch of Charles’ fingers Erik flinches and shoves Charles so harshly he goes sprawling to the floor, books and papers spilling onto the rain-soaked ground.

Erik stares down at Charles, horrified at himself and the mutiny of his hands, and though he wants to reach for Charles and help him up, brush him down, kiss him better, Erik feels every move he could make would only make things worse, and the most he can manage is a mumbled “ _Es tut mir leid.._.”

“I’m alright”, Charles replies through a smile that is plainly false. “I didn’t mean to, um… startle you”, he adds, clambering back to his feet and reaching down to brush the mud from his clothes. The knees of his trousers are ripped and there are scuff marks on his hands, and he looks so sad and dishevelled it pains Erik to look at him, let alone to know that he is the cause of Charles’ misery.

Erik says nothing further, and instead reaches down to gather up Charles’ books, avoiding both looking at Charles and thinking about why he fears the affection of this brilliant man so much.

 

It isn’t fine, of course. But admitting he has a problem is perhaps a reasonable start towards attempting to turn whatever it is he has with Charles into something real. Not that Erik is even convinced he wants that. All he knows is he wants to stop being the reason Charles gets a sad, far-away look in his eyes sometimes, and whether the way to fix that would be to pull Charles closer or to push him away entirely Erik isn’t sure.

Re-joining the rugby games was the first step. The second comes sometime later, when Erik’s Brotherhood and Charles’ X-Men find themselves embroiled in a bitter competition the likes of which has never been seen before.

The two factions go head-to-head… in a pub quiz.

Erik isn’t sure how it happens, all he knows is that one day he finds himself at a cramped table surrounded by his usual accomplices, with Charles sitting across the room concentrating intently on the quiz sheet in front of him. It’s unusual for Erik to partake in something so _silly_ , but he can’t deny that it’s nice to unwind for once, and he feels a certain smug satisfaction every time his group scores higher than Charles’.

After the quiz the amusement only intensifies as, to the surprise of almost everyone, the Brotherhood are victorious. Charles’ face is a perfect mixture of shock and awe as the winners are announced, and Erik can’t help but burst into a wide grin at the sight- a smile that continues as he wanders up to the quiz master to collect a small trophy and returns to his seat.

Sometime later Erik is getting a drink at the bar with his some of his fellow victors as Charles approaches to offer his congratulations, and Erik’s amusement is formed into a barely-contained smirk as Charles stands in front of him.

“Well, I didn’t expect that…” Charles starts, smiling politely at everyone present before raising his eyebrows at Erik in particular.

Erik flashes Charles a sly grin in response as he reaches for his drink.

“Now now, Charles- there’s no need to be a sore loser…”

“I’m not!” Charles mildly protests, gently shoving at Erik’s arm. “I just had no idea that the Brotherhood were so book-smart. I figured you guys spent most of your time trying to decide which capes would be the most fashionable for your outfits…”

“We only discuss capes on weekends”, Erik replies taking a sip of his drink before placing it back on the bar, and the smile Charles gives him in return is bright and giddy.

“Good to know… Well, I guess I better start looking into fashion or some other hobby for myself, now you’ve put me to shame like this. After all, I’ll never be able to show my face in my classes again, now that everyone knows my boyfriend is smarter than me”.

As soon as the words are out Charles freezes, and Erik knows it’s a reaction to the expression on his face more than anything else. Erik feels his heart thud unreasonably fast and his palms grow clammy and his mouth draw tight, and clearly Charles recognises all these things as well by the way his eyes broadcast pure panic.

But, what’s most troubling to Erik is the fact that _no one else reacts_. Both Charles and Erik are surrounded by various people- members of the Brotherhood, X-Men, and others- and not one of them shows any surprise at Charles’ words. It’s in that moment that Erik realises that, somewhere along the line, somewhere between hate and sex, he and Charles have turned from enemies to lovers, and _everyone_ knows it.

The realisation is immediate and startling, and Erik can’t help the way it makes him feel. He feels trapped- like the weight of his emotion is dragging him down, and he will suffocate if he doesn’t escape from the pressure. Erik has not been anything to anyone for a long time- not since he was somebody’s son- and the idea of being someone’s boyfriend, of being anyone’s _anything_ is too much responsibility to bear. Not when such things aren’t built to last.

All around Erik people are talking and smiling and laughing, whilst between Charles and Erik there is nothing but stark silence with heavy words unsaid but clearly read. Erik stares at Charles for a long moment before his gaze falters, and when their eye contact breaks it gives Erik the push he needs to step forward on unsteady legs, and to hastily shove past Charles as he leaves the pub.

Charles follows initially. Erik can hear Charles behind him as he hurries away into the night- Charles’ voice soft and pleading as he tells Erik not to go, tells Erik he didn’t mean what he said, tells Erik seemingly anything in an attempt to convince him to stay. It occurs to Erik that Charles could just use his telepathy to _make_ him stay, but he never does. Indeed, during the time in which Erik has known Charles, Charles has never once manipulated Erik in this manner, and Erik recognises that the gentle nature of Charles’ spirit means he is essentially incapable of such an act. Still, the realisation isn’t quite enough to make Erik trust Charles, because he would have to trust himself first- to trust that he could give himself to someone so completely, and not fall to pieces when they’re gone.

Erik pulls up the collar of his jacket to hide his face, his shame, as he walks briskly away from Charles, and from the light.

 

The incident in the pub happens on a Friday night, meaning that Erik is faced with a long weekend ahead of him during which to avoid Charles. The fact that he has no classes makes it easier, as all Erik has to do is remain in his room for two whole days, shunning all conceivable company as he studies and reads books and tries to imagine what his life would have been like had he not been given such reason to distrust.

Erik knows that at one point in his life he had faith, had hope, and that the kind of touches he received were kind and loving- his father affectionately running a hand through his hair, his mother gently holding his hand as she helped him light the menorah. Sometime though- after his parents died- things changed, and the touches Erik began to receive were cold and clinical and calculating.

Charles is the first person Erik has allowed to put hands on him for years. It was easy at first to make such contact entirely sexual; there was safety an act that could easily be written off as something impersonal. But somewhere over the past few months things began to change, and now the lines are blurred and Erik can’t reconcile the kind of comfort Charles offers with the fear contained within his own mind.

And so, Erik stays in his room. He watches from his window on Sunday morning as Charles leaves to play rugby, and hides behind the curtains as Charles looks up at where Erik is lurking, and feels small and cowardly for the first time since he was a child. He could go to Charles, of course- Erik doesn’t doubt that Charles would be happy to see him- but though Erik is steady and resilient, he finds he lacks the strength to reach for what he cannot grasp.

After the game Charles comes to Erik’s room, and it’s worse. Erik knows Charles is on the other side of the door from the metal of his watch, but it’s not the device that gives the game away. Erik can _feel_ Charles there, like he is reaching for Erik with his mind, and the sensation makes Erik ache almost viscerally as he rests his head against the door- palm pressed against the surface like he is reaching for Charles but is unable to touch him, like always.

Erik doesn’t answer the door, and eventually he hears Charles let out a resigned huff as he moves away.

Later that night the fire alarm goes off again, but still Erik does not leave his room. He remains sat on a chair with his knees drawn up to his chest, listening to the sound of the bell ringing and preparing himself to hurl obscenities and lumps of metal at anyone who might come to his door to urge him to leave. Fortunately, for all concerned, Erik is not disturbed, and the sigh of relief he utters is audible as he stands up from the chair and stumbles over to his bed.

At five o’clock the next morning Erik is still awake. There are moments, here and there, where he has dipped into restless sleep for minutes, maybe an hour at most, but he always rouses and the first thought that comes to his mind is _“Charles…”_

The sun is just rising as Erik leaves his room and ventures downstairs, initially planning to go for an early morning run but instead finding himself drawn to Charles, like always. Charles’ dorm is quiet as Erik walks along the hallway towards Charles’ room, before using his power to unlock the door and stepping inside.

Charles is asleep- lying on his stomach on the mattress with his t-shirt ruched up to his waist and his hair in complete disarray against the pillow. There is dim sunlight filtering in through the curtains casting a glow over Charles’ face, and he is so beautiful that Erik’s heart aches to look at him. Erik knows in that moment that he loves him, that he would do anything to protect him, but that he cannot keep him. Erik could never allow himself to completely fall in love with something so fragile, so temporary- for love is a delicate thing, dependent on both parties being completely complicit, and Erik has learnt the hard way that he can only depend on himself.

Still, there is a battle waging inside Erik between what his heart wants and what his mind tells him he can have, and sentiment wins out as he steps over towards Charles on the bed- casting off his shoes and pulling the blanket away from where it is barely covering Charles as he climbs onto the mattress to sit over Charles’ waist. Charles stirs as Erik settles down, his fingers fumbling blindly to touch his temple in what Erik recognises as a defensive gesture, until Erik leans forward and presses his lips to Charles’ temple instead and Charles emits a happy hum and murmurs “Erik…”

Though Charles is pliable and sleepy he begins to move instantly, attempting to turn over until Erik presses gently against his shoulder blades with both hands to keep him in place, and Charles complies. There is a small drowsy huff from Charles that Erik knows is a protest, but the noise turns into a soft, contented murmur as Erik slides Charles’ shirt higher up, dipping his head down to trail his mouth down the curve of Charles’ spine.

Charles’ skin is soft and warm as Erik places kisses against the surface, using his hands to slide underneath Charles to gently caress his ribs and stomach as he kisses him and holds him, and Charles moans and mumbles Erik’s name in hushed murmurs that sound like worship. It’s unlike Erik to linger- to expend time on trailing his tongue over the lines of Charles’ body when he could just be getting down to business- but he finds he needs this for a moment; to place the gentle kisses Charles deserves against his skin, and Erik isn’t surprised to realise he feels more in his heart that he does in his groin as he slides his hands over Charles’ body.

When Erik pushes Charles’ t-shirt up higher Charles assists immediately- lifting his arms to enable Erik to remove the garment, and shifting his hips to allow Erik to remove his pyjama bottoms too. As soon as Charles is naked he reaches for Erik but is shut down by another firm press between his shoulder blades, and he flops back down with a slightly louder huff as he slides his arms under the pillow, causing the muscles of his back to ripple enticingly as Erik trails an absent finger along them.

“Why won’t you let me touch you?” Charles grumbles, his voice muffled by the pillow his face is pressed into.

It’s a question Erik can’t even begin to answer, so instead he plants his hands either side of Charles’ torso and leans forward- brushing the tip of his nose against Charles cheek before he dips his head further to press his mouth there too- close to Charles’ lips but not touching. Charles murmurs and turns into the embrace, and for a short blissful moment their mouths meet, before Erik turns away and buries his face in the warm curve of Charles’ neck.

“ _Liebling_ …” Erik murmurs as he rests his weight down and holds Charles’ waist, and though the sound Charles makes in response sounds suspiciously like a whimper, neither of them comment on it.

Erik lies there for a moment, holding, hoping, until Charles reaches for Erik’s hand- twining their fingers together as he tilts his head towards Erik and whispers “I think you should fuck me”.

The reaction Erik’s body gives out is immediate and telling. Arousal pools in the pit of his stomach and a visible tremor runs through him, because although he’s considered it before, wanted it almost desperately, Charles has never offered, and Erik could never bear to take anything from Charles that he isn’t willing to give.

“You would want that? Want me?” Erik breathes, leaning up on his forearms and looking down at the part of Charles’ face he can see, still illuminated by the growing sunlight.

In response Charles turns his face further into the pillow and emits a sound that could easily be a mirthless laugh, his fingers still gripping Erik’s hand as he rubs a thumb over Erik’s knuckles, and when he turns back to look at Erik once more Erik can see the sheen in Charles’ eyes as he emits a helpless sob and says: “Erik, _I’m yours_ …” as if that explains everything.


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Erik is not made for tenderness.

He remembers a time when he was young and some sentiment remained- when his mother would gently stroke his cheek and call him “ _Mein Schatz_ ”, and he would lean into her touch even though his friends were watching and he knew he was supposed to be embarrassed by such affection.

After she died Erik was no longer allowed to express emotion, or to want it from others. He was told that he was too evolved for such weakness- that he was a powerful mutant, and that he needed to be strong if he was to be an example to the humans who would inevitably oppose him. At first Erik resisted, and cried for his mother, but over the years he became callous and conditioned, until the very idea of expressing emotion was so alien to him he wasn’t even sure he would be able to differentiate a caring touch from a harmful one.

Erik thinks about tenderness as he lies on top of Charles and nuzzles into the warm nape of his neck. Charles’ heart is racing- Erik can feel it through Charles’ back where it’s pressed against his chest- but he finds that he feels strangely calm himself, like the way he feels isn’t some fleeting rush of excitement, it’s sure and certain and completely grounding.

“You’re sure about this?” Erik murmurs, tilting his head to brush his mouth against Charles’ skin.

In response Charles reaches to the side table next to the bed- opening a drawer and fumbling inside until he retrieves a small pot that he hands back to Erik without comment. Erik remains lying down with his face pressed into Charles’ neck for a moment before he sits upright, tracing his fingertips over the small of Charles’ back before reaching to pull his own shirt off, and then lifting off of Charles to remove his trousers and underwear too.

When Erik is bared he sits back down, just below Charles’ ass, and draws his hands over Charles’ skin once more with one hand whilst using the other to stroke his own cock, more out of absent habit than anything else considering he is already hard and ready. Eventually Erik reaches for the pot resting on the mattress next to him and unscrews the top- coating his fingers in lubricant and resting one reassuring hand on the smooth flesh of Charles’ buttock as he uses the other to cautiously trace Charles’ entrance with his fingertips, before beginning to slide his first finger inside.

Charles emits a low whine as Erik’s finger encroaches, and Erik pauses briefly and watches Charles for signs of discomfort, but then Charles cants his hips back so Erik’s digit sinks deeper and his whine turns into a moan, and it gives Erik the encouragement he needs to insert a second finger and to begin twisting them slowly.

Erik feels like he could stay like this forever- to keep his fingers inside Charles and gently rub against the tangle of nerves that make Charles groan and buck underneath him- but as soon as the thought occurs Charles’ breathing grows shakier as he mumbles “Erik… Now, please… I need you…” and Erik carefully removes his fingers before reaching for the lubricant once more and preparing to slick up his cock. A thought occurs beforehand though, but Erik barely has time to get out the words “Do you have protection?” before Charles is shaking his head and edging back against Erik and murmuring “Doesn’t matter, I want to _feel_ you”, and _fuck_ because _honestly_ , the faith Charles shows and the trust he gives is so dizzying Erik can barely breathe.

Erik is quiet as he lubes up his cock but Charles is not. He makes soft hums and shifts restlessly against the mattress, and more than once Erik runs a soothing hand across Charles’ lower back and urges him to be patient, but at the same time Erik senses that Charles has been waiting for him for a long time now, and every second of delay might be too much to bear.

When Erik is ready he leans forward- planting one hand flat against the mattress as he uses the other to guide his member into place, and once he’s sure that he’s lined up correctly he focuses on Charles’ face as he pushes inside, groaning as his cock slides into tight heat and Charles whimpers quietly underneath him. Charles’ eyes are closed and his hand is curled in a fist- fingers clenched in the sheets as Erik buries his member to the hilt, until Erik untangles Charles’ fingers and entwines them with his own, so he can hold Charles’ hand as he dips his head to press his mouth to Charles’ shoulder.

Erik remains close as he sets up his rhythm- sliding inside Charles in steady thrusts as Charles moans softly in pleasure, but though Charles is soft and gorgeous and _right there_ Erik still feels like he isn’t close enough, and Erik stops to wrap an arm around Charles waist to pull Charles back against himself as he sits back- holding Charles in his lap with one arm banded across his chest, so he can kiss Charles’ neck and fuck into him in shallow bursts. Charles’ shaky groans increase in volume as he reaches to touch himself, but Erik bats his hand away and replaces it with his own- grasping Charles’ cock and beginning to stroke the shaft firmly.

It’s closer than Erik has ever been to Charles- both physically and, Erik suspects, mentally too. Most times Charles is very controlled when it comes to his telepathy- he exercises caution and makes sure not to encroach on Erik’s mind in any perceivable way unless he wants to be noticed- but for some reason, perhaps as a result of how their bodies are entwined, Erik can _feel_ Charles’ presence- his pleasure, his devotion, his affection. It’s a heady sensation, and Erik buries his face in the crook of Charles’ neck and breathes him in and murmurs “Charles…” as he feels Charles’ pleasure build in intensity, until Charles’ cock pulses and spills over his hand, and Erik lets him finish before he pushes Charles down into the mattress so he can thrust a final few times before withdrawing his cock and coming over Charles’ ass in hot spurts.

As the pleasure is wrung out of Erik he feels his body weakening- limbs trembling as he remains leaning over Charles, until Charles swiftly reaches to the side to knock Erik’s arm out from under him and he slumps down on top of Charles’ body, concerned about crushing him until Charles winds his arm through Erik’s and turns his head to place a kiss to Erik’s bicep. He looks happy, and Erik wants nothing more than to remain lying with Charles where he is safe and warm, and to hold Charles in his arms as they both fall asleep, but already the afterglow is fading and Erik knows it won’t be long before his fears truly take over and he is forced to flee. Clearly Charles recognises it too, because when Erik first starts to move he realises Charles’ grip on his arm is bruising, and it’s surely not unintentional.

“Don’t”, Charles urges, turning his head to look at Erik. “Please, Erik- don’t go. Please stay with me”.

Charles’ voice is soft but there is strength behind it- the same kind of conviction Charles has when he’s speaking about something he really cares about. But, as in any other time when Charles has pleaded with him, Erik will listen, but he cannot and will not obey. Not when it would involve settling aside ideas he has held with steadfast conviction for years.

Erik mumbles a brief apology as he withdraws from Charles’ embrace- edging away on the mattress and preparing to just slip out of the room as he usually does, but whilst such escapes are usually met with little more than begrudging silence, this time there is a loud annoyed sound from Charles as he rolls onto his side and looks at Erik and mutters “I can’t keep doing this”.

The sun is nearly up now, and Erik can see Charles fully- the beauty of him, and the disappointment in his eyes. He is marked and he is taken and he is Erik’s, and still Erik will not claim him. There are oceans in-between them even though they are only on opposite sides of the bed, and though they have been here before they have never been _quite here_ before- Charles has never suggested he might give up on Erik, and part of Erik can only wonder why it has taken this long.

Still, there is a bigger part of Erik that is terrified. Although he has spent months convinced that he and Charles have no future, he’d always assumed their downfall would be within his control, and to think that Charles might actually be the one to orchestrate their demise is deeply disconcerting.

“What are you saying?” Erik murmurs, because if this is it then he needs to hear Charles say it- he needs Charles to tell him that it’s over, really over- as final and certain as death.

Charles sits up fully, crossing his legs and resting his hands in his lap as he looks at Erik in a manner completely at contrast to the intimacy of what they’ve just shared- more suited to when he is speaking to Erik about the complexity of mutant issues than about their relationship, or lack thereof.

“Erik, I… I can’t keep giving myself to you like this only for you to up and leave as soon as we’re done. It’s too hard… I’ve been trying, really trying to be what you need, but it’s getting to a point where it’s hurting me, and I won’t keep doing this to myself anymore. Not like this. Something has to change”.

Erik watches Charles, and for a brief fleeting moment he considers what it would be like to say yes- he can change. To crawl over towards Charles and lay down next to him. To rest his head against Charles’ chest and let Charles stroke fingers through his hair as they both fall asleep. But outside the world is waking, and the rising sun casts a harsh light over everything they’ve done and could still do.

“If that’s the way you feel then, fine- I guess this is it”, Erik replies with a voice that does not, will not waver.

Charles is mute in response, but his reaction is written all over his face. Horribly, devastatingly, he looks like he’s about to cry. His gaze drops and his lower lip trembles, and the faraway part of Erik that is soft and warm wants to go to him- to brush his thumb against that lip and pull Charles into his arms and kiss his sadness away. He can’t though, because everything that is happening is exactly what Erik has feared for so long- everything he expected. He knew that one day Charles would tire of hurling himself against Erik’s defences and not getting through, and the only regret Erik has is that he allowed things to go on for so long. But deep down, though Erik may lament the length of time lost, he cannot, will not regret a single second that he’s spent with Charles, and all the ways Charles has brightened his life, however fleeting that may have been.

“I’m sorry, Charles”, Erik murmurs, and the words are the final, fatal blow that signals the demise of whatever this delicate, fragile thing between them was.

Charles nods once, turns to his side, and lies down on the mattress with his face pressed into the pillow, and whatever sounds he’s making are muffled but no less heartbreaking. Erik only watches for a moment, a heavy feeling in his chest that he tries to ignore, before he stands up from the bed and begins to gather up his clothes- pulling them on with hands that shake just a little, before he quietly exits the room and closes the door behind himself with a firm, decisive click.

 

The weeks after that are awful, but unsurprising. Erik sees Charles around campus, and each time it’s painful and upsetting- like Erik knew it would be- but what makes it worse is the new realisation that himself and Charles are like strangers.

Charles of course is the pinnacle of decency. He smiles politely at Erik and occasionally asks him how he is and makes small talk about their classes and the weather and other such nonsense, but there is none of Charles’ usual warmth in his words and Erik never knew he would miss the way someone used to look at him quite so much.

It’s hard for Erik to form sentences in response, and most times he can only manage to offer up gruff utterances that he hopes Charles won’t interpret as indifference or apathy. It isn’t like he doesn’t want to talk to Charles, but he knows every word could betray him- he could open his mouth and let his heart speak and then all of a sudden they could be close but not together, and it would only be a matter of time before they ended up here again. So, it’s easier to remain silent, and to let Charles think Erik is sullen and rude rather than heartbroken and devastated, even if the expression on Charles’ face sometimes makes Erik feel a sharp pang of guilt in his chest- like a thorn he will never get out.

 

The next time Erik talks to Charles- really talks to him instead of just exchanging pleasantries- it is during a theme night at the student union. Erik really _really_ doesn’t want to go, but by this point he has been spending an exorbitant amount of time doing nothing more than moping, and Erik’s friends are threatening to disown him if he doesn’t lighten up and have some fun.

Erik doesn’t really do fun, but he begrudgingly goes along and tells himself he will just sit and drink quietly whilst everyone else around him enjoys themselves.

Within about twenty seconds of entering the establishment, Erik realises that his plan is unlikely to succeed.

Inside the student union there is loud music blaring and people dancing and everyone looks, well, faintly ridiculous to Erik considering it’s a _pyjama party_ for fucks sake. The dresscode was just one of the many reasons why Erik was hesitant to go, but in the end he managed to pull on some pyjama bottoms, a t-shirt, a hooded jumper, and a scowl, and- given the appearances of most other people in attendance- Erik suddenly finds that his attire is downright conservative in comparison.

All around Erik there are girls in skimpy lingerie and boys in fitted briefs, and the whole situation would be entirely compelling were it not for one thing. Charles.

Erik spots him within a few minutes of arriving at the SU. Charles is stood at one side of the room drinking and talking to friends, and he’s wearing pyjamas so distinctly old-fashioned they look like they’re from the 1950s. The ludicrousness of Charles’ outfit only increases when Erik’s gaze drops down and he sees that Charles is wearing fucking _shark slippers_ , for God’s sake. But still, in spite of his deeply unfashionable clothes, to Erik, Charles is the most beautiful person in the room. More alluring that all the women in their raunchy underwear. More captivating than all the men with their tops off. He doesn’t even have to do anything- just the sight of Charles standing there and smiling in the sweet way he does is so completely seductive that Erik isn’t sure what’s louder- the music all around him or the pounding of his heart in his chest.

After that initial sighting Erik immediately heads over to the bar to get himself a drink (or three) which does something to calm his nerves but nothing to quell the feeling of desire that consumes him when he thinks of Charles. By the time Erik has finished with his drinks he decides he’s ready to face Charles- it would be the polite thing to do after all- so he wanders past his friends who are gyrating on the dancefloor as he goes in search of him.

It isn’t hard to find him. Charles always seems to be wearing the same metal watch, and part of Erik is secretly emboldened by the realisation- like there is a hope that Charles is wearing it so he is easily locatable to Erik. Regardless of Charles’ motivations, Erik follows the metal of the watch like a beacon- drawn to Charles through throngs of party-goers, until he finally finds him in a far corner of the room.

As soon as Erik sees Charles he freezes. Well, it isn’t so much Charles as the person he’s with that makes Erik grow still. Charles is leaning against the wall at the side of the room, and in front of him there is a large, gruff-looking man who rests one hand against the wall to block Charles in as he talks to him, and it’s clear from how close they are to each other that there is some semblance of intimacy between them.

The jealousy Erik immediately feels is so visceral it makes him feel physically sick, and he fights off a wave of nausea as the metal lights above him creak for a moment before reforming. The metal fluctuation is perceivable to no one but Erik, and everyone in the room goes on talking and dancing and laughing, whilst meanwhile Erik stares at Charles so intensely he can’t help but wonder why Charles hasn’t registered him standing there. But given the bottle clutched in Charles’ hand and the way he sways unsteadily on his feet sometimes, Erik suspects that maybe Charles’ mental facilities are rather more hampered than usual.

Erik is so, so close to turning away- to leaving Charles to move on with his life and returning home to nurse his broken heart in privacy, but then he sees Charles’ companion step forward and slide one hand under Charles’ pyjama top, and there is a flicker of discomfort on Charles’ face- Erik is sure of it- and he tells himself that he needs to intervene.

As Erik approaches he can’t really see Charles- his view is blocked as the other man steps closer and places both hands on the wall to _forcibly_ keep Charles prisoner, and Erik’s blood boils and his teeth grind together as he reaches out with his mutation to latch onto what happens to be the closest metal in the vicinity- Charles’ watch. There is an audible shout from across the room as the man standing in front of Charles steps back, revealing his soaked shirt and the sight of Charles open-mouthed and holding an upturned beer bottle, staring at his own hand like he can’t comprehend what’s happened. After a couple of seconds though he looks up- sees Erik- and finally seems to understand. And, unfortunately for Erik, Charles’ companion gets it too.

Erik isn’t quite sure what happens next, but it’s like some sort of red mist descends and the next thing he knows he is outside, stomping away towards his dormitory as rain pours down all around him. There is a slight pain in his lip and an even bigger one in his hand, but most of all Erik just feels numb, and tired. Tired of wanting Charles. Of punishing himself. Of running. But though Erik recognises in that moment that there is little point playing hide-and-seek with his own feelings anymore, he still doesn’t stop when he hears the sound of his name being called.

A few paces later there is a hand on Erik’s arm pulling at him, and he turns around to regard Charles- evidently slightly more in control of his faculties than Erik as he stands before him sheltered by an umbrella, whilst Erik’s clothing grows steadily more soaked.

Charles stares up at Erik like he is searching for something, and when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for his expression grows thoughtful and he says: “What was that about?”

Erik shrugs in response, appearing more nonchalant than he feels.

“That guy was bothering you, so I did you a favour. You’re welcome…”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Charles scoffs. “That guy was not _bothering_ me, he was… Well, it’s no business of yours what he was doing. After all- _you_ broke up with _me_ , remember?”

“No. No, Charles- that’s not what happened. You left me--”

“I didn’t leave you, Erik! I didn’t want us to be over I just wanted you to change. Gosh, not even that- I wanted you to _try_. But clearly you’re not willing to do that, so it’s a little ridiculous to me that you would deliberately try and ruin my night now, after spending weeks ignoring me”.

“I wasn’t ignoring you…” Erik grumbles. “I was trying to give you space…”

“Erik… All I’ve ever wanted is for my space to be next to you”.

Any words Erik is forming are quickly quelled- denials and counters and declarations dying on his tongue as he feels a familiar tightening in his chest. The rain is still streaming down all around them and Erik is wet through and he just _doesn’t care_ because once again Charles is looking at Erik like he’s the whole world and Erik feels like he’s worth something for the first time in all the years before he met Charles.

Erik stares at Charles for a long moment, heart surging with stilted feelings, and fears both speaking and saying nothing- because when it comes to Charles it’s like there is no right answer, as nothing Erik could offer would even come close to being what Charles deserves.

“Erik…” Charles says eventually whilst Erik remains mute. “Erik, you’re completely drenched. Can I… Can I take you home?”

Erik is still stoic and silent in response, though his eyes drop down to regard Charles’ feet and he suddenly finds himself thinking that Charles’ shark slippers look very much at home surrounded by so much water. There’s a brief nod, and then Charles steps forward and links his arm through Erik’s and lifts his umbrella up to shelter them both, and slowly he coaxes Erik to walk.

 

When Erik arrives back at his room he unlocks the door with a flick of his fingers and then Charles is leading him inside and directing Erik to sit down in a chair. At first Erik doesn’t understand what Charles is doing and he feels a familiar flutter in his stomach as Charles drops to his knees, but then Charles gently takes Erik’s hand and Erik looks down and sees that there is blood on his skin.

Using the hem of his shirt Charles gently wipes the blood away, exposing shallow cuts on Erik’s knuckles presumably caused when his fist connected with the face of Charles’ companion or possibly during the resulting scuffle, but Erik can’t quite bring himself to feel guilty at the memory considering Charles is here and he’s touching Erik and taking care of him and it’s everything Erik wants but will never ask for.

When Charles has finished wiping Erik’s skin he holds Erik’s hand between both of his own, carefully running his thumbs over Erik’s fingers in appraisal, and looking up at Erik to smile apologetically when Erik flinches.

“Sorry…” Charles murmurs. “Just checking if anything is broken. I think you’re alright, though I’m not sure the same can be said of the guy you punched…”

Erik wants to say that the man deserved it, that he had no right to put his hands on Charles like that when he’s _Erik’s_ , but he knows that he has no claim of ownership over Charles anymore, and that Charles is free to do as he pleases.

It’s likely that’s the thought that makes Erik tremble- that makes his body shake and his heart race- but clearly Charles interprets Erik’s shiver differently, as he immediately stands up and mumbles “Come on, let’s get you into bed”, and Erik is so enamoured by the suggestion that he simply stands and allows Charles to undress him without even thinking to comment.

Charles’ touches are gentle but impersonal as he removes Erik’s clothes, even going so far as to remove Erik’s underwear (though he chastely diverts his gaze) and then he’s leading Erik over to the bed and lifting the covers so that Erik can slide underneath. Erik lays down as requested, the warmth of the sheets barely combating the chill he feels within, and when Charles starts to move away after Erik is situated Erik reaches over and grasps his arm and mumbles “Stay”, like it’s suddenly the only word he knows.

There’s clear surprise on Charles’ face which makes Erik fearful for a moment, but then there’s affection too and contentment, and next Charles is kicking off his soaked slippers and crawling into the bed and then he’s _there_ , next to Erik, soft and warm and beautiful. Charles lays on his side facing Erik, barely moving and with a tasteful distance between them, but he leans towards Erik and looks up at him with that same searching look he always seems to have, and Erik can’t help but stare back and bathe in the beauty of Charles’ gaze.

The tremble is back. Erik isn’t sure if Charles will notice it considering they’re both covered by the blankets, but then Charles lets out a small sigh and says softly “Erik, you’re _shaking_ …” and he’s moving- reaching one hand to cautiously touch Erik’s stomach like he’s testing his limits and edging closer when his advance is accepted, until he climbs on top of Erik and lies down against his torso and buries his face in Erik’s chest like he hopes to hide without being discovered.

In response, Erik is both lost and found. He feels himself cast adrift but reclaimed- anchored by this one simple thing; this solid weight against his chest that holds his heart and keeps him safe. But though Erik feels more content than he’s ever been, in his arms Charles appears to be barely breathing. He holds onto Erik like he’s afraid to loosen his grip, like it’s the first time he’s ever held him, and in truth it is- Erik has never allowed himself to be this close to Charles before, and now- with Charles’ face snuggled into his neck and his mouth resting against Charles’ hair- he’s finding it hard to remember why.

Charles’ hair smells heavenly but it’s his skin Erik wants, so Erik dips his head down to let his lips brush against Charles’ forehead, until Charles murmurs quietly in response and tilts his face up, until Erik’s lips are trailing over Charles’ nose… his cheek… his mouth… Until they both sink into this kiss like it was made for them- like all actions were leading to this moment, this night, this bed.

Erik pushes his tongue forward to part Charles’ lips and Charles lets him in and it’s _perfect_ , and Erik cannot remember why he has resisted this for so long- when Charles is so good and so gorgeous and he makes Erik feel like he is home. Lips aren’t enough though- Erik aches to touch- so he wraps his arms around Charles’ waist, sliding his hands under Charles’ pyjama top and trailing his fingertips down Charles’ spine, and delighting in the way Charles moans and shivers in response.

Though Erik yearns to hold Charles close so their mouths remain together Charles keeps pulling away- stealing little glances at Erik’s face, like he’s trying to make sure that Erik is still there and he isn’t going to abruptly leave, which is an understandable concern given their previous encounters. When Charles seems convinced of Erik’s loyalty (or surrender) there’s a brief sweet smile that passes across his face, before he leans close to Erik and kisses him and kisses him; slow and sensual until Erik feels like his nerve-endings are singing.

Erik could stay like this, hold Charles like this forever, and he laments how simple things seem when Charles is in his arms- when there is nothing but the two of them pressed flush beneath the sheets. In the daytime hours things are harder somehow- like Erik feels the pressure of others’ expectations as a phantom weight, like there is a voice inside his head telling him he will never be good enough. Monsters aren’t made to be loved, after all, and there is no rest for the wicked. But Erik knows that Charles has never seen him like that. Erik tells himself that it’s because Charles doesn’t really know him, but deep down he realises that Charles is incredibly shrewd even outside of being a telepath, and he likely knows Erik better than he knows himself.

The kiss goes on for a long time- Erik isn’t sure how long- but it’s certainly longer than he’s ever kissed anyone before, and part of him never wants it to end. It does though, and Erik only realises he’s caused it when he becomes aware of his hands underneath Charles’ pyjama bottoms resting on his ass. Charles leans back from Erik- his face flushed and his lips soft through kissing, visible even in the dim room- and there’s a look a little bit like a question before Charles is shifting on top of Erik and trying to work his pyjama bottoms off without moving away, and Erik is reaching down to help- pushing against the hem of Charles’ clothing until it’s removed and Charles lays back down, and there’s a low groan from both of them as Charles’ cock slides alongside Erik’s.

Removing Charles’ top after that is a foregone conclusion, but Erik doesn’t rush it. He kisses Charles again and undoes his shirt one button at a time, revelling in the feeling of more and more bare skin being pressed against his chest, until Charles’ top can be completely removed and discarded off the side of the bed before Erik’s hands are back encircling Charles’ waist and holding him close.

The feeling of Charles lying in Erik’s arms is still utterly _perfect_ , but every second to come is even better than the last. Charles begins to rock forward as he kisses Erik, causing their cocks to slide together and Erik to groan and yearn for deeper contact, until- after one particularly heated moan from Erik- Charles breaks away from the kiss and smooths his fingers through Erik’s hair and murmurs “Erik, I need you…” and Erik isn’t sure if Charles means physically or in some other way, but it doesn’t matter because the answer is yes.

Erik gestures with one hand and next to him the drawer of the bedside table slides out, and then a small tub of lube is being transported through the air towards the bed- propelled by Erik’s hold on the thin layer of metal affixed to the base. Charles grasps it from the air and sits up so that he is straddling Erik’s waist, and he’s so beautiful bathed in moonlight that it makes Erik’s breath catch in his throat, and he can do little more than watch, captivated and entranced, as Charles coats his fingers in lubricant and reaches behind himself to begin getting ready.

Erik remains spellbound and yielding as Charles works himself open, fingertips caressing Charles’ knees and pulse racing, even as Charles places his hand on Erik’s chest- palm over his heart- like he is trying to soothe him. The gesture works marginally, and Erik lets out a shaky breath as Charles finishes touching himself and reaches instead for Erik’s cock- grasping the shaft firmly and moving back into position, but stopping short of actually sinking down onto the length. Before that happens, Charles leans forward so that his face is inches away from Erik’s, looks deep into Erik’s eyes, whispers “You’ve never looked more beautiful, darling…” and then Erik is groaning as Charles presses down onto Erik’s cock and dips his head to steal a kiss.

Like the last time, Charles’ kisses are slow and drugging, and the feeling of Charles sliding along Erik’s cock only makes Erik feel even more overcome by pleasure. He keeps his hands resting chastely against Charles’ knees but Charles is tactile in response, and draws his palms across Erik’s chest and strokes fingers through his hair and holds his face, like he has been granted some kind of special privilege and now he can’t get enough. After Charles gives several low murmurs of encouragement Erik’s fingers begin to encroach, trailing along Charles’ thighs and across the fine bones of his hips, until one hand moves to hold Charles’ cock and Charles moans and whispers “Yessss…” intimately in Erik’s ear.

With one hand on Charles’ hip and the other holding his cock Erik watches, transfixed, as Charles leans back and begins to roll his hips more vigorously- resting one hand against Erik’s shoulder for support as he slides along the length of Erik’s cock and fucks into the clasp of his hand. Charles’ eyes never leave Erik’s face as he rocks forward even though his body shakes from time to time, and it’s a gift really because the look in Charles’ eyes is _everything_ , and Erik is sure it is that rather than the stimulation of his cock that makes him come. When he does, he moans Charles’ name, and Charles drops forward and mashes his face into Erik’s shoulder and Erik holds Charles as he rolls his hips, until he is coming too and moaning Erik’s name, and nothing has ever sounded sweeter.

In the afterglow Erik lies there, fingers trailing up and down Charles’ spine as Charles nuzzles Erik’s neck and tells him he is wanted and needed and another word that is muffled but Erik feels it rather than hears it anyway. He drops his hands from Charles’ back and lets out a long sigh, and Charles looks at Erik in concern- like he has foreseen a storm coming and he hopes to take shelter before it hits. Nothing happens though. Erik is tired, of so many things, so he simply remains lying on the mattress- dimly aware of Charles climbing off him after a while and the sound of Charles’ feet padding over to the bathroom. When Charles returns he brings with him a warm cloth that he uses to clean Erik off, before he climbs back under the sheets and lies down on top of Erik- placing a kiss to Erik’s temple along with something else.

There are words there, pressed into Erik’s mind like an inquisition- one that stirs Erik’s heart but leaves him unable to answer, and as Charles lies down and rests his head against Erik’s chest Erik feels his eyelids begin to lower, and he wonders if Charles will ever get the answer he seeks to the question that’s clearly been plaguing him for a while.

_“Why won’t you let me love you?”_


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

When Erik awakes the next morning his hand hurts and his throat is scratchy and he is alone.

Erik slowly opens his eyes, blearily blinking back sleep, to regard sun streaming in through the slightly ajar curtains- a suggestion of the hour that is confirmed when Erik uses his mutation to feel the metal hands of his clock, the position of which tells him it is a little before 9am. The space next to Erik is empty and cold, suggesting Charles has been gone for a while, and though the realisation should not be that surprising Erik still finds it troubling.

In all the months Erik has known Charles, and throughout all of the intimacies they’ve shared, Charles and Erik have never once spent the night together. It’s something that has always been on Erik’s terms- every time after he’d had sex with Charles he would always leave- not even making excuses to go, just removing himself from Charles’ life like he was never there to begin with. In a sense, this time, Charles has only done what Erik would have normally wanted, but on this occasion- as Erik wakes and rolls onto his side and sees he is alone- it feels like it’s more than just Erik’s bed that is empty.

The bothersome feeling continues as Erik withdraws from the sheets and gets himself ready for the day. He gets dressed and stands in front of the mirror in his bathroom, brushing his teeth and feeling an ache in his chest that he knows isn’t from the fight last night.

It’s Charles. Erik _misses_ him, and it’s only been a few hours since he saw him last. The feeling is worse than any other time when he and Charles had separated, as previously there has always been either an understanding that they were either going to come back together at some point, or that it was over for good. After they slept together last night there was no time for discussion of any kind- not that Erik would have necessarily wanted it- but now Erik is left in some sort of limbo state where he doesn’t know what the status of his ‘relationship’ with Charles is. The truth is he doesn’t have one, but perhaps for the first time he thinks very seriously about changing that.

Within ten minutes Erik is downstairs, walking along the corridor to Charles’ room and ignoring the entirely unsurprised faces of the people he passes. When he reaches his destination he extends a hand- intending to just unlock the door with his powers and let himself inside like he always does- but he hesitates, and the hand curls into a fist as he briefly taps on the door and steps back to wait patiently.

Charles doesn’t look particularly surprised to see Erik, though whether that’s because he expected Erik to come or because he used his telepathy to check who was on the other side of the door, Erik isn’t sure. Charles opens the door and leans heavily against the doorframe, and there are dark circles under his eyes that suggest he didn’t sleep particularly well, if at all.

“Erik…” Charles starts. “Look, um, this isn’t a good time- I have to leave for class in a few minutes. If you want to come by later this evening we can… _you know_. But I don’t have time for that now”.

Erik blinks, drawing his eyes over Charles’ appearance and coming to realise what he has reduced himself to in Charles’ eyes- someone who just comes by for a quick fuck and leaves. It’s not really how he sees his relationship with Charles. It’s not what he wants from him. And maybe it’s time to fix that.

“Charles, I didn’t… I’m not here for _that_ , I…” Erik pauses, drawing his hand back through his hair and considering for a moment just asking Charles to use his telepathy to locate what Erik is loath to say. But Erik knows that would be unfair- that Charles has likely already spent too long playing a guessing game with Erik’s emotions, and maybe the time has come to be honest.

“Are you free tonight?” Erik asks eventually.

“Yes…” Charles replies, looking at Erik quizzically. “Yes, I already told you that you can come by later if you want to fu--”

“No”, Erik interrupts, the sound coming out like a bark. “No, Charles- I’m not talking about that. I… I don’t want to just come to your room and _fuck_ , I… I want to take you out”.

“Out…?” Charles repeats, clearly not quite understanding what Erik is driving at.

In response Erik lets out a sigh, before stepping closer and seizing Charles’ hand- squeezing it lightly as he looks down at Charles. Charles drops his gaze to regard their hands pressed together, like he can’t quite believe what’s happening and even though he feels it he needs to see it too to confirm its certainty.

“Charles, would you… Would you want to go on a date with me?”

Charles is rarely at a loss for words, but in that moment Erik feels like he can see speech fail him. Charles whips his head up to look at Erik and mouth gapes and his eyes go wide and he just stares for a while, looking surprised and startled and _happy_ , and the expression on his face is so adorable that Erik almost wants to tell him to forget the date because he wants to drag Charles inside his room and have him right here and now. But Erik is trying to think about what Charles might want rather than himself for once, so he simply remains gazing down at Charles, until the sight of him is so charming that Erik can’t help but burst into a wide grin.

In that moment Charles seems to come back to life, and he reaches up and gently touches the side of Erik’s face, thumb tracing across the corner of Erik’s mouth and the outline of his smile, until Erik turns his head and presses a kiss into Charles palm, and Charles _laughs_ and the sound is so beautiful it prompts a surge of feeling in Erik’s chest.

“Is that a yes?” Erik asks, resisting an urge to rub his face against Charles’ hand as Charles caresses Erik’s jawline with his thumb.

“Darling, of course it’s a yes”, Charles replies, and though it costs a great effort to resist Erik leans down to press a single kiss to Charles’ cheek, before he murmurs “Come on, you’re going to be late for class”, and he pulls Charles out of his room and keeps their hands locked together for a few seconds before he lets go as he walks with Charles down the corridor.

 

Though Erik has certainly taken the first step, the second one is even harder. Later that day he stands in front of the mirror in his bathroom, smoothing down his clothes and trying to quell the uneasy feeling in his chest. There’s a voice in Erik’s head that tells him he’s not worthy, that when people see him with Charles they will stare and wonder why Charles has lowered himself to be with such a monster, that one day Charles will regard Erik with the same grim view that Erik reserves for himself. But Erik knows that these thoughts are his alone, that Charles is entitled to make his own decision about what he wants, and that Charles agreed to this date so it would be impossibly rude and arrogant for Erik to question his motivations.

But though Erik tells himself that he’s doing the right thing, his mind still whirls with uncertainty as he wanders down the corridor towards Charles’ room, until the point when Charles opens his door and he looks so beautiful that suddenly Erik can’t think of anything else. The shirt Charles is wearing is blue and lightly patterned, and the material reflects the spectrum of colour in Charles’ eyes so perfectly it’s like it was made specially for him.

There were words when Erik arrived at the door but now they are forgotten, taken, stolen, except for one which Erik mumbles in a dazed tone: “ _Hübsch_ …”

Charles smiles, gazing affectionately up at Erik. “You said that when we first met, but you never did tell me what it means…”

“It doesn’t matter…” Erik replies, shaking his head as he comes back to himself.

Charles quirks an eyebrow and pouts a little and it’s _adorable_ but it doesn’t make Erik give up his secret. Instead Erik leans forward, places a simple kiss to Charles’ cheek, and murmurs “You look wonderful, Charles…” and then Charles is smiling and grasping the front of Erik’s leather jacket with both hands and nuzzling his face into Erik’s neck, and it’s a wonder they make it out of the dormitory at all after that.

 

Sometime later Charles is in the car with Erik, chattering happily about the events of the day as Erik listens attentively and drives them to their destination. When they arrive Erik turns off the engine and looks over at Charles, and his heart falls slightly at the confused expression on Charles’ face. It was probably a bit of a cheat for Erik to take Charles somewhere secluded- as though he’s facing the idea of having a real relationship with Charles he isn’t quite doing it out in the open- but the concession was the most Erik could manage and there’s a part of him that likes the idea of having Charles all to himself for a bit longer.

Though Charles is clearly a bit perplexed he covers it with a warm smile and politely asks Erik where they are, and Erik simply replies “Come and see”, before he climbs out of the car and walks round to the boot- opening it and reaching inside to retrieve a few items that he carries with him as he begins to walk, with Charles following faithfully behind. Pebbles and stones under their feet give way into grass as Erik leads Charles through a cluster of trees and up a small hill, until they emerge at the top and Erik stops and glances back at Charles, and finds that Charles isn’t looking at him at all- he’s gazing in awe at the scene beyond.

Erik smiles. It’s exactly the kind of reaction he hoped Charles might have, though seeing it for himself is even better than he could have imagined. Charles’ amazement is understandable. From where they are standing there is a clear view as far as the eye can see- miles and miles of countryside, and in the distance the soft, twinkling lights of the city that cause a hazy yellow glow to be reflected in the sky. It’s perfect, or at least it would be were it not for one thing. Erik presumes this is the reason he never sees anyone else up here- down at the base of the hill upon which they’re standing is a ‘blight’ on the landscape; a large scrapyard, composed of junk cars and discarded appliances and various chunks of twisted, broken metal. Erik likes it, naturally, but he knows that not everyone would see the beauty in such things.

“Erik…” Charles breathes. “This is incredible. Thank you so much for bringing me here”, and then he looks up at Erik like he’s the wonder, rather than the scene before them both.

Erik would touch Charles but his hands are full, so instead he turns away and begins to lay out the items he’s brought with him- a large blanket that he unfolds onto the ground, and a rucksack that he reaches inside to withdraw various containers of food, cups, and a portable chess set. Charles watches in quiet astonishment as before him Erik places items on the blanket, until Erik looks up at Charles and gestures with a jerk of his head, and Charles is kneeling down and moving next to Erik until they both sit facing each other.

“Did you make all this?” Charles asks, one finger absently tracing the lid of a clear plastic container, inside of which is several pieces of pre-sliced Challah.

“Yes… I’m aware that you can’t cook to save your life, so I figured you could use a decent meal for once”.

Charles laughs giddily and smiles at Erik, conceding his words with a nod and watching expectantly as Erik begins to open up containers and place food onto a plate that he hands over.

 

An hour later Charles and Erik are still together on the brow of the hill, sated by delicious food and drink and good conversation. It’s later in the evening now and a cold front has set in, so Erik is lying with one arm wrapped around Charles’ back as Charles snuggles into his chest. Erik holds Charles, absently strokes his fingers through Charles’ hair, and Charles hums happily and wraps his arm tighter around Erik’s waist and murmurs “Thank you, darling…”

Erik shrugs. “I should have offered to cook for you before…”

“I’m not talking about that”, Charles replies, tilting his face to look up at Erik. “I mean, I appreciate the cooking, of course, but more than that I just appreciate you spending this time with me. I know this isn’t easy for you, but it means the world to me that you’re trying”.

“It was probably long overdue…” Erik grumbles, but Charles won’t let Erik overlook his accomplishment. He moves to rest on one forearm, his other hand resting on Erik’s chest as he gazes down at him.

“This means the world to me”, Charles reiterates, before dipping his head to press a grateful kiss to Erik’s lips, and though there is a part of Erik that wants to turn away- to hide from the things that could both heal and hurt him- he gives himself to Charles, and allows the kiss to turn into several more.

There is warmth in their closeness, so it’s no surprise that Charles and Erik cling together against the cold- kissing slowly and softly, hands touching each other’s bodies in reverence. Erik holds Charles close to his heart and uses his hands to grasp Charles’ lush backside, pulling Charles on top and angling him into place to that he is pressed against Erik’s crotch, and groaning into Charles’ mouth in turn. That isn’t the only audible groan though, and Charles abruptly withdraws as in the distance there is the harsh, grating sound of creaking metal.

“What was that?” Charles mumbles, looking at Erik questioningly as the noise abates.

In turn, Erik looks sheepish. “Ah, sorry… Sometimes my power can spike and flare, particularly when I’m in proximity to large quantities of metal and I um, _get_ _excited_ …”

Erik feels embarrassed by his lapse in control, but Charles looks at him and smiles and it makes Erik feel better, particularly when Charles brushes his fingers through Erik’s hair and says: “I understand. The same thing happens with my powers sometimes”, and Erik remembers always feeling closer to Charles whenever they were having sex- like they were on the cusp of connecting mentally rather than just physically.

“It’s funny…” Charles adds, “All mutations are so unique and so different, and yet there are always similarities- parallels between the ways our abilities manifest. It’s something I hope to look into in more detail with my research, though of course there is only so much I can ascertain through observing and taking notes…”

“But surely your research can go much deeper than that?” Erik asks, absently stroking his hands up and down Charles’ spine. “You’re a telepath, so you have the unique ability to enter other mutant’s minds and actually experience their powers as they do, right?”

“Well, yes- I suppose… But I doubt I’ll find anyone to let me do that”.

Erik smiles, because Charles is so smart and at the same time so naïve.

“Charles… You already have. I know when I was helping you with your experiments before I was a bit wary of your research, and then I just dropped out of assisting you altogether, but I’d like to make that up to you now, if I can. I want you to use your telepathy on me- to experience my power as I do”.

Charles’ mouth gapes slightly and he looks like he’s about to protest, but then Erik is sitting up straight and turning Charles around so he sits between Erik’s legs and his back is pressed against Erik’s chest, and Erik is twining their fingers together and resting his chin against Charles’ shoulder- enjoying the warmth and scent of Charles as he whispers “Charles, come in…”

There’s a long, shaky breath from Charles that for a second makes it sound like he’s frightened, and then he is closing his eyes and lifting his hand to touch his temple, and Erik is trembling slightly as he feels Charles’ presence register in his mind- as strong and warm as sunlight. Charles gradually edges into Erik’s psyche, finding a small, safe space made just for him where he settles and watches and feels as Erik begins to flex his power.

Erik has always liked this place- the vast amount of metal scattered in the scrapyard has always seemed comforting to him, like there is a home for every discarded, broken thing in the world. As the thought occurs he feels Charles smile inside his mind- the sensation bright and comforting- and it’s accompanied by a thought from Charles that makes Erik’s heart surge with feeling: “ _Nothing is so broken that it cannot be fixed_ ”, and Erik turns his head to press a kiss to Charles’ cheek before he continues.

Erik moves his hand to grasp Charles’, sliding his fingers in-between each digit as he lifts Charles’ hand with his own and reaches with his ability to the metal down in the valley. There’s an audible gasp from Charles at the first flex of Erik’s power, and then he watches in awe as Erik begins to control various items in the scrapyard- lifting and moving and moulding different pieces of alloy to form a dizzying display of metal manipulation that takes Charles’ breath away.

This is something that Erik has done so many times previously, but this time it’s different. Erik isn’t sure at first what causes it, but he feels more powerful than ever before- able to lift and mould huge lumps of metal that were formerly entirely out of his reach. It’s a completely surprising revelation, until Erik feels Charles squeeze his hand and press a phantom kiss to his mind, and he knows he’s stronger with Charles than he has ever been alone.

 

The display of Erik’s mutation goes on for a long time, even as storm clouds begin to amass overhead and they both feel the temperature drop by several degrees. It isn’t until the first few drops of rain begin to fall that Erik gently loosens his hold on the metal and Charles carefully extracts himself from Erik’s mind, and then they are hastily gathering up the items from their picnic and running back down the hill towards the car as the sky opens and a deluge of rainwater cascades down upon them.

They make it almost all of the way back to the car before Erik slips on a muddy patch of grass and tumbles ungracefully to the ground. It’s embarrassing, and a little bit painful, and Erik’s resultant scowl is instant, but then Charles bursts into peals of laughter and as Erik looks up at him he can’t help but be disarmed by his expression, and by the time Charles is reaching down to help Erik up they are both near-hysterical and unsteady on their feet.

Eventually Charles and Erik manage to return to the car, still laughing intermittently as Erik starts the engine and begins to drive off. It’s quite a long journey back to the university and it’s late in the evening, so Erik is unsurprised when Charles later starts to doze off in the passenger seat- snuggled up safely under the blanket they were sitting on earlier.

When they reach their destination Charles is in a deep sleep, and he barely stirs when Erik opens the passenger door, unclips Charles’ seatbelt, and scoops the unconscious telepath into his arms before carrying towards his dorm. With a flick of Erik’s fingers Charles’ door is unlocked and Erik is pulling back the blankets and laying Charles down on the bed- at which point Charles finally rouses and begins to mumble in sleepy tones and reach for Erik; clutching his arm like he’s trying to pull him into bed.

“Ssshh, relax _Liebling_ \- I’m not going anywhere”, Erik whispers, and Charles’ mumbling turns slightly more contented as he loosens his grip on Erik and rolls over to snuggle into a nearby pillow. It’s not easy with Charles lying on his side, but Erik removes Charles’ shoes, his trousers, and his shirt and places them neatly on a chair, before turning his attention to his own rain-drenched clothes and discarding them also.

Charles stirs again as Erik climbs onto the mattress- turning towards Erik and mumbling his name whilst Erik reaches for the blankets and moves the sheets to cover them both. Charles wriggles towards Erik and Erik moves closer in turn, until he is resting his head against Charles’ chest and Charles is pushing Erik’s hair back and pressing a kiss to his forehead, and Erik feels safe and warm and contented, with no desire to run for the first time in years.

 

When Erik awakes he no longer feels calm, thanks entirely to the shrill alarm going off above his head. He jolts abruptly from sleep, unsure of where he is or what he’s doing, and reaching out blindly with his mutation until he seizes hold of the nearest source of metal and there is a sharp yelp in response.

Erik remembers where he is when he hears Charles curse, and then Erik is quickly flicking on the lights with his powers and cringing slightly when he takes in the sight of Charles lying next to him, clutching his wrist and wincing at the metal pressing into his skin. Immediately Erik loosens his hold on Charles’ watch, and Charles lets out a sharp gasp of relief and rubs the now extremely-reddened area of skin on his wrist as Erik fumbles over words of apology- initially coming out in German until he recovers his faculties and he can say sorry in English.

“It’s alright”, Charles replies, still rubbing his wrist. “I know you didn’t mean to do it- it’s that bloody alarm’s fault. Who the fuck is cooking at two in the morning?”

“ _Dumme_ _Idioten_ …” Erik mutters bitterly by way of an answer, and Charles smiles briefly in response.

“Come on, we need to go outside”, Charles says eventually. “Um, do you want to go first or should I…?”

Erik blinks, confused, and then it occurs to him what Charles is offering. To step outside with Charles side-by-side would be an acknowledgement of their relationship- a confirmation that they’re together for everyone to see. It’s incredibly considerate of Charles to offer to continue to hide- to allow Erik to maintain the privacy he so desperately needs- and the gesture is so sweet it makes Erik fall more in love with Charles than ever before. Never has someone offered Erik so much, given so much, trusted so much, and Erik knows that- though the voices in his head telling him he’s not good enough are ever present- with Charles, Erik is worth something at last.

There’s a startled yelp from Charles as Erik advances abruptly towards him- climbing on top of Charles and pressing their mouths together in an enduring kiss that Charles only resists for a second. He slides his hands to hold Erik’s waist, tracing reverent fingertips along Erik’s ribs as the sound of the alarm above them becomes steadily quieter through wilful ignorance. Eventually though Charles seems to remember the _other_ pressing situation, and he tilts his head away and laughs and pokes playfully at Erik’s sides.

“Erik, _come on_ \- we need to report to the assembly point before someone comes looking for us”.

“Alright, fine…” Erik grumbles, taking a moment to nuzzle into Charles’ neck before he’s gently pushed away.

 

A few minutes later Erik is stood outside a few metres apart from Charles, shivering slightly at the cold air and the rainwater on the ground dampening his bare feet. Given his own clothes were soaked Erik should have accepted the garments Charles had offered before they’d ventured outside, but Erik had stubbornly refused everything except a woolly jumper that still ended up being too small for him, considering it barely reaches his midriff let alone the top of his underwear. Still, Erik isn’t really thinking about his attire, he’s thinking about the other people standing around who are stealing occasional glances at the two of them- Erik is sure of it.

But then, when one person gives Charles a particularly lengthy look, Erik realises that maybe people aren’t looking because they’re judging him, or Charles. Maybe they’re just looking because that’s what people do, and that any opinions they may or may not have about himself and Charles are completely irrelevant- excepts for the kind of looks at Charles that broadcast an interest that makes Erik feel a small curl of jealousy unfurl in his chest.

Charles is clearly cold standing outside- though he may have dressed more sensibly than Erik in a set of pyjamas and a thick jumper- and he wraps his arms around himself and shivers as he waits for the alarm to cut out.

In a few steps Erik is beside him and turning Charles towards himself, and though the expression on Charles’ face broadcasts surprise he’s clearly pleased too, and he moves into Erik’s embrace readily as Erik wraps his arms around Charles and kisses him- there in full view of everyone as the alarm stops ringing.

 

The weeks that follow aren’t easy, but with every step Erik takes Charles is there beside him, holding Erik’s hand and offering him support. They see each other most days, and though Erik sometimes panics to think of the future he finds Charles’ presence to be calming- more so now that Charles is granted unreserved access into Erik’s mind as well as his bed.

Charles never enters without first being invited, and he never outstays his welcome, but regardless his ventures into Erik’s mind are frequent in nature- not only restricted to when they are sitting together in a lab after hours, but also in various moments throughout their private life.

The first time Erik really, truly allows Charles to enter his mind when they are in bed together the experience is incredible- almost overwhelmingly so. Erik leans over Charles and holds onto the back of his thighs to keep him in position as he fucks into him, and Charles gazes up at Erik in wonder and smiles fondly, and then he’s there- in Erik’s mind, and Erik can _feel_ everything Charles is feeling and it’s wonderful. He dips his head to kiss Charles and feels safe and warm and loved, and there is no way of knowing which of them is expressing the emotion but Erik finds that it doesn’t matter, because it’s like they share one mind, one soul, one heart.

But though Charles’ telepathy enables himself and Erik to connect on a deeper level than ever before there’s clearly still something missing, and Erik doesn’t realise it until one day he’s in bed with Charles- lying back against the pillows with Charles sprawled between his legs and Charles’ head resting on his chest. They lie together and watch television- some silly, romantic film that Erik doesn’t think Charles is really paying attention to- until suddenly, horribly there’s a muffled noise from Charles that sounds like a sob, and Charles is climbing off the bed and abruptly hurrying away to seek solace in the bathroom.

When Erik goes after him and persuades Charles to allow him to enter he unlocks the door to find Charles sitting on the edge of the bathtub, head resting in his hands as he hides his face. Erik kneels on the floor in front of Charles, tracing his fingertips against Charles’ knees as he looks at him, and Erik finds he envies Charles’ powers of telepathy in that moment as he doesn’t have a clue what’s going on.

“Charles… _Liebling_ , what is it? Why are you so sad?” Erik asks softly, reaching up to grip Charles’ forearm and trying to gently coax Charles to remove his hands so Erik can see his face. It works, and Charles drops his arms and looks down at Erik and there is an ocean of sadness in his eyes- so sincere it makes Erik’s throat hurt and makes his heart contract painfully.

“Erik, I… I think about you all the time, but I can’t say it out loud. I’m afraid to tell you how I really feel, because I know you need time and you need this to be on your own terms, but it’s hurting me to keep so much to myself”.

“Charles, what are you talking about?” Erik asks softly, thinking of all the times Charles has told Erik how much he is appreciated and wanted and respected- all the kind words and soft reassurances that have made Erik’s life brighter and warmer. Surely Charles is already speaking his mind- what more could there be to say?

But then Charles tilts his head as he looks at Erik, and Erik _feels_ it- the true depth of Charles’ feelings, like a surge of emotion forging forward, seeming very much like the way Erik feels deep within his heart.

“You mean…” Erik starts, the word lingering on the tip of his tongue but remaining unsaid: “ _Love_ ”.

Charles seems to get it anyway, and he nods somewhat forlornly and Erik feels very much like he’s keeping Charles prisoner- like he’s keeping Charles’ emotions in a cage where he’s the only one who has access to them, but it’s a kind of solitary confinement for the soul and Erik never visits.

Eventually Charles agrees to leave the bathroom- his sadness concealed by a careful mask as always- and Erik tries to think of a way to let Charles be open and honest that doesn’t make him want to run and hide.

 

A week later he finds it.

In the day Erik is in an auditorium full of people, watching in admiration as Charles steps to the front of the room- his presence captivating and commanding as everyone quietens and he begins to speak.

Charles stands on the stage and tells the audience about his work, his research, his achievements, his goals. He tells them about the progress he has made so far. He tells them about his plans for the future- everything he wants for the rest of his life. And in every sentence, in every syllable, is Erik.

Charles never says Erik’s name out loud- he grants Erik the privacy he always needs- but Erik _feels_ it in everything Charles says. It’s in the words and it’s in the wind, and it’s in the way Charles looks at Erik as his eyes soften and his mouth slips into a sweet smile. Charles stands there and tells those assembled about the most extraordinary person he has ever met- a man with a remarkable mutation, a man who has changed his life- made it brighter, sharper, warmer, and man who means more to him than anyone ever has.

Erik knows then how much Charles loves him. He knows he loves Charles too. And, for the first time, he knows he wants that love to be open, honest, and for them to live without shame.

Later that night Erik is in bed with Charles, inside Charles, kissing Charles, and Charles’ arms and legs are wrapped around Erik so completely it’s hard to tell where one of them ends and the other begins.

As Erik lingers on the cusp of bliss he looks down at Charles- at the beauty and warmth of his face- and knows he is safe, that Charles will not hurt him, and he says “Tell me, Charles”, and Charles smiles at Erik and strokes his fingers through Erik’s hair and then he says it: “Erik, I love you”, and Erik leans down and kisses and kisses Charles- slow and intense- until eventually he presses his face into Charles’ neck as he comes and whispers: “ _Ich liebe dich, mein Gott, Liebling- ich liebe dich auch_...”

 

 

Two months later, Erik is in the bathroom during a brief break as he travels from one class to the other. It’s down the hall from the same library where he and Charles first met, where he and Charles had some of their finest arguments, and Erik thinks of those memories with bittersweet recollection as he washes his hands at the row of bathroom sinks.

When Erik’s hands are clean he moves over to the paper towel dispenser affixed to the nearby wall, and as he’s drying his hands he sees it.

There’s a drawing on the wall- one that Erik has seen so many times before- that depicts Charles and Erik embroiled in a vehement argument, only it’s different now. At one time the drawing was an indication of the animosity they felt towards each other, accompanied by the words: ‘Erik Lehnsherr hates Charles Xavier’, but it doesn’t say that anymore.

Someone has taken a red pen and drawn a loveheart in the space between the two crudely sketched figures, and the word ‘hate’ has been replaced.

‘Erik Lehnsherr loves Charles Xavier’.

Erik sees the words, and recognises the truth of the sentence, and smiles.

He _loves_ Charles.

Definitely.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Husband](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15226254) by [pinkoptics](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pinkoptics/pseuds/pinkoptics)




End file.
